Against the Crooked Sky Part One
by Tauna Petit-Strawn
Summary: Jarrod is tricked into going to Arizona, is injured and winds in an Apache camp. What will happen?  I suck at summaries, please read anyway. Two part story.
1. Chapter 1

**do NOT own The Big Valley or any of the original Barkley characters**.

**I liked the Audra/Brigham combination, so I kept him in here. **

**Also, Thanks to my Beta Reader, Martha, who has been a HUGE help in the navigational and scenery part of this story.**

**Against the Crooked Sky**

**Chapter One**

Jarrod stood in the corner of the living room watching Nick dance with his bride, one Amelia Barnhurst from Carson City, Nevada. The blue eyed brunette had moved to Stockton with her family the year before and quickly caught Nick's eye, what with her genuine love of horses and ranches. Audra and Brigham were visiting with some of the guests. Audra's very swollen stomach had everyone quite excited. In fact, there had been more than one person afraid they'd have a baby born at the same time as the wedding. Just that thought made Jarrod chuckle; Audra would not have like that. She so disliked missing a good party, even if she though noon a strange time of day to hold reception. She preferred evening parties.

Heath walked up and handed Jarrod a drink. He could tell something was bothering his brother, and that worried him. After all the excitement of the wedding, and the impending birth of Audra and Brigham's baby, Heath hated the idea something was amiss. Then again, things had been going quite smoothly for some time. Maybe, whether or not they liked it, life was getting ready to hand them another challenge. "You should join in the festivities," Heath said as he handed his brother a drink.

Jarrod wanted to; after all, he loved the fact that Nick had finally found a good, real good woman to be with. He loved the party, but mentally he turned the letter that was in his pocket over and over, reading every line. "Don't worry," Jarrod took the drink and forced a smile upon his face, "I'm enjoying myself right here. Observing people is always interesting."

Heath's one eyebrow went up. Something was up; he just knew it. He would have cornered Jarrod on it, but just then Audra let out a holler and grabbed her abdomen. Brigham flew to her side, as did her mother. "Well," Audra said as she looked apologetically at the new bride, "at least the baby waited until after the wedding?" If it weren't for the fact that Brigham and Victoria were leading her to the stairs, Audra would have seen Amelia beaming from ear to ear. Everyone was either smiling or talking excitedly. "_This is so exciting_" could be heard repeated more than once.

"Looks like you need this more than I do," Jarrod chuckled and handed Brigham the drink in his hand. His brother in law did, too; he looked more scared than a jackrabbit being chased by a hunting dog.

"I might," Brigham took the glass from his brother in law, "Depends on what's bothering you. Are you well?" He spoke low as Jarrod was still in the corner of the room and everyone else was talking in the middle, or at front of the room. It did not pass by Brigham that his words had hit a bit too close for Jarrod's comfort.

"Don't worry about me. My health couldn't be better." Jarrod didn't have to fake a smile for that one; Dr. Merar had just given him a clean bill of health that morning. He hoped his brother in law wouldn't press the issue; he didn't, as his mind was too much on his wife and the baby that had decided to crash the party. Brigham guessed the little tyke didn't care to be left out.

By the time they heard a baby cry all the guests had gone home and hours had passed. Victoria appeared at the top of the stairs, all talk between the men instantly stopped. Brigham made his way to his mother in law, who was now at the bottom of the stairs, his anxiety shown in his anxious filled eyes. "Well, how is she? How's the baby?"

Victoria's face was beaming and her eyes sparkled as she answered, "Audra is fine and so is your son." Hollers and joyous congratulations rang out in the air. Brigham ran up the stairs before anyone could stop him.

Nick wrapped his arm around his bride. "Well, mother how does it feel? A daughter in law and a grandson in the same day."

He, and the rest of the family, busted up laughing as she answered, "Great, just glad it wasn't the bride giving me the grandchild!" That statement only served to embarrass Nick as he realized just how he'd made it sound. He and Amelia then excused himself. Victoria, finally able to get her mind off all the business on hand, realized how quiet Jarrod had been.

"Heath and Gene," Victoria said as she looked towards the window, "There's still some light left; how about taking all these extra chairs out to the shed?" Neither Heath nor Gene were blind, they knew when their mother was really asking to be left alone with someone.

"Sure thing, mother," Gene grabbed some chairs, as did Heath. The moment the door was shut Victoria turned to face her oldest. He'd sat down in the chair closest to the fireplace and was staring into space. She walked over and looked at him for a while, before she spoke.

"Out with it. What's wrong?" She didn't like secrets, especially ones that appeared to be troubling ones, and Jarrod was troubled.

He gave her a smile and chuckled. He wasn't doing so well at hiding his feelings from anyone, maybe it was the wedding and now the birth of a nephew. Still, he wasn't about to say anything to worry his mother. He'd tell her just enough to satisfy her. "I found out just this morning that I have to leave tonight," he finally answered, "I've been asked to meet with a Bryson Tate and a James Brandon; they work with the Bureau of Indian Affairs. It might take awhile; I could be gone up to eight weeks."

Victoria shook her head. She didn't know why he needed to be gone that long, but she wasn't going to tell her son how to do his work. Though, she didn't feel it was right the way the Indians were being treated, but what could she do except be friendly and helpful to the few she'd met? "You didn't say anything because you didn't want to ruin Nick and Amelia's day."

Jarrod smiled, "I told Nick. I had to; after all, I couldn't expect him to put off his wedding night now could I? But no, I didn't want anyone else's mind on the matter during the wedding." He stood up. "I'll be home in a couple of months. I'll make sure I say goodbye. See you when I get home, lovely lady." He turned and headed for the stairs. He'd say goodbye to his sister first.


	2. Letters and Departure

**Against the Crooked Sky**

**Chapter Two  
><strong>  
>Heath, Gene and Brigham all stood outside the barn as Jarrod led his horse out. They'd each left the house separately and, at his request, now stood wondering what on earth was up. Jarrod looked at each man before him; Nick's glaring absence hurt, but how could he ask his second brother to join them? It was his wedding night, and then the man had his honeymoon to enjoy. No, Jarrod couldn't put a damper on that one.<p>

"Jarrod?" Heath asked as he kept his eye on the man's face. The seriousness in his brother's eyes made him nervous, made them all nervous. None of them was comfortable that Jarrod was obviously hiding something from the women and Nick, though in Nick's case, they could understand why.

They watched as Jarrod pulled out some envelopes from his pocket. The fact that he stood staring at them for what seemed like an eternity didn't help put the men at ease. Finally, Jarrod took a deep breath and started talking. "I am going to meet to agents that work for Indian Affairs; I may be gone up to a couple of months. However," he paused and then said, "I'm not going to my San Francisco office, nor am I going back to Washington." That statement sent shock waves through each and every one of them.

"Just where are you going, and why the feeling of apprehension in the air?" Gene's found it extremely difficult to ask the question as, all of a sudden, he feared losing his 'Pappy'. That was unthinkable! Jarrod had to return.

Jarrod handed each of them a letter, actually he handed Heath four. "Please, do not open those unless I am not back within a couple of months. Heath," he looked at him with the sincerest look of apology in his eyes, "Those other three are for mother, Audra and Nick. Please, do not give them the letters unless they need to be opened." He then mounted his horse and rode off.

Heath, Brigham and Gene watched their brother disappear into the night; none of them missed the fact that he had failed to tell them where he was going. They didn't like this one little bit. Each looked at the envelope, or envelopes, in their hands. Each was tempted to open what was given them anyway, but they didn't. Jarrod had been so serious and somber when he handed the envelopes to them, and they respected him too much to go against his wishes. "I think," Heath said as he put the envelopes in his vest pocket, "We'd best get back inside before we're missed." He headed for the house, as did Brigham.

The night owls and other animals of the night bid the three men goodnight, and then turned around and did what they could to ease Jarrod's troubled mind. He knew he should tell them exactly where he was meeting the agents, even take one of them along. After all, Washington had said he could if he felt he needed it. But, when all was said and done, he couldn't do it. Who was he supposed to take? Brigham had just become a father; he needed time with his son. Nick had just gotten married; no one should take a chance of making Amelia a widow so soon. Heath? He sighed. He would have asked Heath in a heartbeat, but Hannah counted on Heath to come and visit her this time of the year, every year and she wasn't exactly getting any younger. When it came to Gene? That boy had been awarded a prestigious scholarship that would pay the rest of his college tuition _if_ he was back at college in time. He would not rob him of it.

Due to getting away from the house later than he planned, Jarrod barely caught the train he needed too. He had been on the train for quite a while when he got the strong impression to get off it. He couldn't understand why, but he listened. He got out of his seat and found the conductor, asking to talk to him in private. Once they were standing on the platform, Mr. Jacobs, the conductor looked at him puzzled. "What is it? Is there something I can do for you?" He greatly admired this man before him, even felt highly in his debt because Jarrod had cleared his grandson of a murder charge and helped save his, the conductor's life from the true murderer. He'd do anything for the man.

Jarrod nodded his head, "I need you to stop the train 'due to mechanical problems', let me get my horse out of the animal car, and then continue on your way." He kept his eyes on the scenery.

Mr. Jacobs liked Jarrod Barkley; he didn't like secrets. Then again, Jarrod never kept any secrets he didn't feel he absolutely had to. "I am to keep my mouth shut too, no matter what." He made the statement not really wanting Jarrod to answer. He just figured any man getting off a train in the middle of the night had secrets. Jarrod nodded, and then on another impression, added, "Just don't watch me get off. That way, if anyone asks, you didn't see me leave. I promise, I'm not up to anything illegal." "_Don't don't ask me what I'm doing, besides losing my mind."_ It was a thought he added only to himself. The conductor wished he knew what was going on; as it was, he simply nodded his head and went back inside.

Jarrod took the letter he'd received out of his pocket and began to read. Why couldn't he have met the agents in San Francisco or Washington? Why did they have to go see the land personally and then work out the details? He would have suspected foul play except for the fact that when his friend, Brian Miller, had delivered the letter he'd apologized saying that he'd found out, quite by accident, what was being asked of Jarrod. He too had been suspicious and thus had the request investigated beforehand. Finding nothing amiss, he'd asked if he could personally deliver the official letter.

Jarrod looked up at the sky. It amazed him how many tiny, sparkling stars were sending down what little light they could. For a moment, he could hear his father talking. "_Each member of this family has a light inside themselves son, together that light is so bright it can blind you. That light can be of a great help when it comes down to the wire_." Jarrod sighed. "I'll carry that light inside of me, father, but I couldn't ask any of them to come with me. If anything happens, at least it's one light that went out, not two."


	3. Chapter 3

I do NOT own The Big Valley or any of the original Barkley characters. *Jarrod dwells upon the railroad character *Mr. Crown…he is, of course, from the POG episode. ****

Against the Crooked Sky ****

Chapter Three **  
><strong>  
>Jarrod rode a good two hours before finding a place to make his camp for the night. As he lay on his bedroll, he thought of his family and found himself wishing he'd been able to bring himself to ask at least one of them to come with him. However, it was too late for that. He turned on his side and fell asleep. He slept soundly until the light of the early morning sun kissed his forehead and he woke up.<p>

After gathering up his bedroll, he sat down and ate some of the jerky that he had brought with him, along with an apple. He'd have to stop in the next town and pick up some supplies; he didn't intend to eat jerky and apples all the way into Arizona. Once again, he pulled out the letter and read a part of it out loud. "…_we have been assured that you have offered to help in any legal matters concerning the reservation that President Grant has in mind. Bryson Tate and James Brandon both work for the Department of Indian Affairs. They will meet you…fastest way is by train and then_…."

Jarrod shook his head as he finished reading the letter, and then put it back in his pocket. He had been through the area before. He could have described it to them, even told Brian he could offer it, but the Brian had told him that such an offer had already been made, but it seemed the men flat out insisted on seeing for themselves. Okay, he thought it was stupid too, but what could he do about it?

It wouldn't have been so bad only it was common knowledge that at this very moment * the government was beginning to plan to force close to one thousand, five hundred Yavapai and Dilzhe'e Apache from the Rio Verde Indian Reserve. Jarrod didn't know why they were waiting if that was the case. It was summer time and the weather was good. If they waited too long, it would be * winter and there would be more suffering than ever. Sooner or later, the Indians would be robbed of the several thousand acres of treaty lands promised to them. It made Jarrod sick to his stomach.

With those thoughts on his mind, Jarrod found words from long ago being repeated in his mind. "_Take away from a man what is his, son, and he'll fight you tooth and nail to get it back if he can. If he can't get it back, he'll still retaliate_." "Things and people aren't always what they seem." Again his father's words rang in his ears. No matter what anyone told him, the military and the government knew that they'd be dealing with renegade Apaches soon enough. If they didn't know it, the letter wouldn't have informed him to feel free to take a man with him. Finally, he pushed those thoughts out of his mind once and for all. There was no use in continuing to think about something that could not be changed.

Once his breakfast was gone, Jarrod mounted his horse and started his travels once more. As he rode over the vast open land, Jarrod thought on the times he had had opportunities to visit the Indian people. The ones he had talked to had always been nice and polite enough, but they hadn't been on the defensive either. When it came to the Apache, he wondered about the things he had heard. Which stories were true, which ones weren't? After all, he knew better than to think all of the stories were all true fact. His experience was that, most times, men had a way of telling nine truths for every lie they told.

His mind began dwelling on all the different kinds of people he had met over the years; Jarrod couldn't help but see the vast difference between someone like a railroad associate he knew, a man by the last name of Crown, a supposedly upstanding citizen and successful in his line of business and men like his own brother, Heath. Society looked down upon men and women who, like Heath, had had to grow up never knowing a biological father, yet these same men and women often acted with more integrity than the ones like Mr. Crown. He prayed the men being sent from the Indian Affairs were decent, good men; actually, he prayed for many things.

Jarrod may have been mentally going over many things in his head, but his family was sitting in shock doing what they could to wrap their minds around what Fred was telling them. "What!" Nick, who was standing next to the fireplace, exploded as the lawman finished speaking.

Fred couldn't blame Nick for reacting the way he did, but he didn't know what he could do; he was only the messenger. "The engineer talked to me himself. He was worried because, after they stopped the train the first time, to see what was wrong with it, Jarrod had up and disappeared. I talked to the conductor; he said no strangers were around, and he never saw Jarrod get off, the engineer didn't either. Mr. Jacobs said the only thing he saw that was out of the ordinary, was two men sitting on horses when he stopped the train again to get water and let the passengers off to stretch their legs. Apparently, the men were looking at every passenger who got off the train, but they rode off without going near it. He gave me their descriptions, just to play it safe."

"That doesn't make sense!" Nick put his hands on his hips. "Why the tarnation would he just up and leave like that?" Nick didn't have the patience for puzzles, and this was a puzzle. Brigham and Heath exchanged glances and did their best not to worry.

Knowing Nick needed to be calmed down, and knowing Jarrod had a reason for doing the things he was, Heath spoke up. "Nick, we told you he had some business with the Bureau of Indian Affairs to take care of and how long he said he'd be gone. He never did say right where he intended to meet those Indian Affairs agents, or how he was getting there. Why overreact before the two months are up?" He looked at his brother, sister and mother.

Nick fumed for a few more minutes, and then shook his head. "_Pappy, you'd better have an awfully good reason for what you're doing!"_ he thought to himself, but out loud, he simply nodded and looked at Fred, "Keep your ears open." No one said another word as Fred bade them goodbye and walked out the front door.

* .org/wiki/Apache#Forced_removal  
>In 1875, United States military forced the removal of an estimated 1,500 Yavapai and Dilzhe'e Apache from the Rio Verde Indian Reserve and its several thousand acres of treaty lands promised to them by the United States government. At the orders of the Indian Commissioner, L.E. Dudley, U.S. Army troops made the people, young and old, walk through winter-flooded rivers, mountain passes and narrow canyon trails to get to the Indian Agency at San Carlos, 180 miles (290 km) away. The trek resulted in the loss of several hundred lives. The peoples were held there in internment for 25 years while white settlers took over their land. Only a few hundred ever returned to their lands.<p> 


	4. Paul

**Against the Crooked Sky **

**Chapter Four ****  
><strong>  
>As Jarrod rode into Chowchilla he kept his ears and eyes wide open. More than once, since receiving such a strong impression to get off the train early and go by horseback, he'd thought about just turning around and going home. He'd thought about it and continued riding. He had to; he'd given his word to meet the men and discuss all legal matters concerning the planned reservation, and he'd not go back on his word. He wasted no time in locating the mercantile.<p>

Once inside, he looked around. It wasn't a large store by any means, but it held the items he needed: beans, pork, more jerky and other items he had not thought he'd need when he left Stockton. Thank goodness he had a good supply of cash on him. As he gathered the items he needed he heard the cashier talking to one of the other customers. "I tell you, there's talk going round, those injuns' will, sooner or later, be forced to move. For now though, only a fool would go into that area. I hear tell there's Renegade Apaches running around loose."

Jarrod again thought about turning back, but there were two men depending on him to show up. He finished gathering his supplies, paid for them and left. He was just getting ready to mount his horse when he was stopped because a man called out his name. Jarrod turned his head and got the shock of his life. Paul Lee, an old family friend strode up beside him. Paul looked to be in his late forties (he never would tell anyone his exact age), had hair that looked more like salt and pepper with a beard to match and sported a grin a mile wide. He wore more wrinkles than wrapping paper that a two year old had gotten hold of and played with and wore a buckskin jacket; his black hair hung to his waist in a ponytail. "Paul! Paul Lee! What on earth are you doing?" Jarrod held out his hand; the mountain man took it and shook it hard.

"I could ask you the same thing. Don't you belong in a city or, better yet, a courtroom?" The old codger, as Nick always called the man, grinned at Jarrod as he playfully teased him. He loved doing that, teasing any of the Barkleys. They were good friends to him, almost like sons.

"I'm traveling on business," Jarrod answered his friend, knowing full well what was coming next. It did. Paul had never been very good at beating around the bush; time hadn't improved that habit any.

Paul knew every nook and cranny when it came to the area Jarrod was now in, and everything east and south of it. The man wasn't going to let him 'get away with that line'. "On business? Where on earth are you going? Nearest town, one big enough to worry about an attorney is Fresno and ya can't tell me ya passed it only to turn around and go back!" Paul eyed Jarrod as if to say, 'I'm starting to get old, but not that old."

Jarrod repeated what he'd told him mother, on top of everything he'd left unsaid and then added, "The men wanted to see the land for themselves. I think they're crazy, but I'd already given my word to meet with them and discuss the legal aspects. Before you say anything," Jarrod continued talking with a somewhat frustrated look upon his face as he admitted where he was heading, "I made the mistake of saying I'd meet them wherever they wanted to, no questions asked. Stupid of me, I know."

"Stupid 'twern't the word I was thinkig." Paul laughed, and then grew serious, "It's not good to be traveling alone, Jarrod, not in the direction you're going. Apaches are restless, renegades are causin' trouble. If yer fool pride won't let you ask yer family, let me tag along with ya. 'Tisn't like I've got anything better to do." He waited for Jarrod to reply, making sure to give him a look that said '_You might as well agree to it, 'cause I ain't leavin' your side now_!'

Jarrod kicked himself. He had hoped the rumors about the Apaches were just that, rumors. He should have checked that part himself, but he'd been tying up loose ends on an important case when he was approached about the matter. The fact that Brian had taken the time to check into the matter had seemed good enough at the time. He should have known the gentleman would only have time to check into the legal side of things. Oh well, there was nothing he could do now. "It will be nice to have you along. Where's your horse?"

Paul pointed down the street. "At the livery stable, I'll hurry and go get him." He took off walking at a fast pace. Jarrod mounted his horse and followed.

While Jarrod was waiting for Paul, Heath was talking to Nick. The two were standing out by the corrals though. Heath hadn't wished to alarm his mother. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Nick looked at Heath in disbelief. His brother had just finished explaining what Jarrod had said before he left; that is, admitting he wasn't meeting the men at his office or in Washington.

"I didn't think he'd be getting off the train early! I'm more concerned than ever now. It's just not sitting right with me." Heath answered as he kicked some dirt up with the toe of his boot. "I want to go looking for him, demand some answers, but…" he sighed and shook his head.

Nick rested his back against the fence and finished the sentence for him. "But you don't have the slightest clue as to what direction he took off in, and he didn't want to be looked for unless he wasn't back in a couple months time." Heath nodded wishing like crazy Jarrod hadn't asked him not to hold off on giving Nick the envelope, for he knew that Nick would have it opened before he, Heath, had a chance to say a word. As it was, he said not a word. Nothing more was said as both brothers rested against the corral fence knowing there was nothing they could do at the moment but wait.


	5. Because He Cares

**I do NOT own The Big Valley or any of the original Barkley characters**.

**Against the Crooked Sky**

**Chapter Five **

Jarrod and Paul rode east out of Jamestown, a few birds flew overhead and a soft breeze blew softly through the air. Both men were grateful for the breeze, otherwise it would have been one very hot day. Paul had been doing a lot of thinking. He didn't really want Jarrod going into the area he was heading for, not with the Apache renegades on the loose. He wasn't meant to be in an area like that. Maybe, Paul looked at his friend, "Jarrod, why don't you just go to the nearest town, one that has a telegraph office, and send wires out wherever you have to stating the fact that the meeting will just have to take place at your office. Traveling clear to the actual area itself is so unnecessary."

Jarrod nodded, "It is; but, not only did I give my word, I'm already 75 miles away from Stockton! Come hell or high water, I might as well see the thing out." Foolhardy as it seemed to be, he couldn't see turning back now.

"What will your family do when you get back and tell them where you went and the chances you took?" Paul was thinking more along the lines of '_what will that hot headed brother of yours do' _and Jarrod knew it. Anytime anyone asked that question there was always a 'what will Nick think' implied, if not said outright.

"Probably tell me how stupid I was," Jarrod answered as he chuckled a bit, "And then welcome me home with open arms. At least," he said shrugging his shoulders, "I hope they do." Funny, he knew his family well enough to know it was the truth; still, he always seemed to hold a slight fear he'd be proven wrong. He told himself it was all the years he'd spent in a courtroom, winning some cases, losing others. It kept a man guessing for sure, kind of like everything else in life. "What about you? You do have that daughter and son in Denver, Colorado you know. Don't they ever tell you to stop running around in the mountains and bouncing between California, Nevada and Arizona?" Jarrod asked at the two went around a hill and over a small stream.

Paul looked up at the sky; more birds were flying overhead. He always loved watching the birds fly; he wished he could. "Of course, they do, when I see them. Of course, when I see them, it's usually 'when are you going to come to your senses, father?' Want to know what I tell them?" His eyes were laughing as he asked the question. He looked like a child who knew his mother was behind him and took the cookie anyway.

Jarrod laughed, "When you're six feet under and on the other side of life." Paul had made that statement so many times, to so many people; Jarrod didn't have to think twice to come up with the answer. He never argued with the man when he said it. After all, Jarrod knew he had said, basically, the same thing more than once when someone asked him if he would lay aside the law books when he grew old. Life might force them out of his hands, but he'd never willingly give them up.

By the time dinnertime rolled around they'd reached what looked to be a decent enough place to camp. There was a small meadow so the horses could graze a stream with fresh water and a fallen Live Oak tree to provide firewood. Jarrod stopped his horse and dismounted. The sun was setting and, if they were to get camp set up before it was pitch black, he and Paul needed to hurry. Hurry is exactly what the two did as they built a fire and laid out their bedrolls. Once they had eaten supper and lain down, Paul turned his head and looked at Jarrod. "I have to say, after this meeting with those Indian Agents, maybe you'd best get their heads checked. Everything they hope to accomplish could be done in an office; they have got to be losing it."

Jarrod said nothing as the man fell asleep. Why had he agreed to this? Travel from California down to Arizona, risking the chance of crossing paths with one, or more, renegade Apaches to do what? To have two men look over land that the others had guaranteed was good enough, and then sit down and work out legal details that, as Paul said, could be done in the office? As he thought on the situation an old, almost forgotten memory came to his mind, one of a conversation between an old Modoc brave and himself.

"_You are different. Your family different. You care about me. You care about my people. You fight for us and others. I have it better because of you." _Jarrod smiled as he thought on the Modoc brave who passed away shortly after that talk. Maybe, it was for men like him that he, Jarrod, had been crazy enough not to back out of the commitment when he was told the men wanted to meet on the land that was being looked at as a possible reservation for the Apache people. He _didn't_ like the idea of the Apaches, any Indian for that matter, being shorted; and they'd been shorted enough times as it was.

In the distant he could hear what sounded to be the howl of a lone wolf rising through the air. The sound was a mournful one, as if the animal was grieving the fact that the land roamed so many years by the 'red man', as so many men still insisted on calling the Indians, was being lost little by little to the invading white man. The howl was followed by another, and yet another. Each one seemed to be doing its best to offer some condolence. "I just hope those men and I can look at the land, get the details worked out and make it home all in one piece," Jarrod said as he closed his eyelids and fell asleep.


	6. Chapter Six

**I do NOT own The Big Valley or any of the original Barkley characters**.

**Against the Crooked Sky**

**Chapter Six**

Morning came early, and it found Paul and Jarrod once more headed east towards Twain Harte. Low hills could be seen wandering off to their right and some higher peaks could be seen off to their left. If it weren't for the time limit Jarrod had put himself, he would have stopped his horse and enjoyed the scenery more. As it was, he continued pushing Jingo on. The sooner he got to his destination, the sooner he could meet with the agents and get this deal over with. The sooner the deal was over, the sooner he could get out of the unstable area and back to California.

It was Paul who finally broke the silence. He only spoke the doubts that had finally pushed their way to the front of Jarrod's mind. "I still think something ain't right my friend. I mean, establishing reservations is one thing, but the kind of men you're talking about? Insisting on personally seeing the area before the details are put down in print? It doesn't make sense."

Jarrod sighed as they rode alongside rocky slope and he shrugged his shoulders, "I know, I've been thinking more on it. I don't understand though. Brian Miller assured me he had checked everything out, and that everything was on the up and up. I just assumed the men wanted to mix business with pleasure." He knew plenty of men who did that; he'd even done it at times.

Paul gave him a strange look as it came to him what else was bothering him. "Why didn't you have Brigham check it out?" Brigham had been working for Jarrod for some time now; Paul couldn't understand Jarrod taking someone else's word when he had someone like his brother-in-law. Brigham was a great investigator. Paul was sure he probably had more contacts than anyone in California.

"I would have, but he was doing some investigation for me on an important case and was extremely busy as it was. Besides, Brian's pretty thorough when he gets it into his head to investigate anything." Jarrod answered. By the time the sun started setting again, they were still thirty miles from the Sonora Pass. Jarrod dismounted his horse and went to work setting up camp; Paul did the same.

As they sat around the fire once more, Paul shocked Jarrod by asking, "Just how well do you know your friend?" As he asked the question, Paul was remembering all the "friends" he'd seen through the years. Most of them were like glue, stuck right with you no matter what, but others? He sighed, the others weren't really friends; that is, friends like some he'd seen were better off labeled as enemies.

Jarrod didn't answer right away. He'd known Brian for years, met him when he moved to Stockton with his family when the man was only twelve. Sure, at first they'd been more like staunch enemies, but by the time they turned sixteen they were the best of friends. "Pretty good as far as I know, why?" Jarrod looked at Paul, troubled to see a look of concern upon the old man's face.

Paul shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know, just trying to make sense out of something that doesn't make any. It's a habit I've picked up through the years." He fell into silence as he leaned went back to drinking his coffee and enjoying the sounds of the night. The silence left Jarrod to dwell more on the man called Brian Miller.

How well _did _he know the man? He knew his name, of course. The fact that he knew Mr. Miller's parents and siblings were a given. The man loved puzzles and social events (such as dances) and he had a wicked sense of humor at times. Mr. Miller kept his word, when he gave it and, as far as Jarrod knew, had fought for truth just as hard as he had. So why was Paul's question sitting in his gut like pushing and prodding him to think harder? "_Sometimes, when hard times come, a good man can forget what's important and turn to other sources for comfort and, if he doesn't catch himself soon enough, can find himself having a very hard fall." _His father's words again rang in his ears. For the first time since leaving Stockton, Jarrod found himself with a very horrible thought; was it possible Brian had, for some reason, lied to him from the beginning?

Jarrod finished his cup of coffee and set his cup down. "How fast do you think we could make Hawthorne?" He looked at Paul as he asked the question. He wanted to get to the town and get a wire off, but he didn't want to push Paul. The man may be young enough to travel with him, but he was old enough that Jarrod didn't want to start pushing his luck either.

"If we keep a steady pace," Paul answered as he set his own cup down, "I'd say no more than three or four days. Now I'm the one asking why." He kept his eyes on Jarrod, wondering if he, Paul, had hit a nerve somewhere along the line.

Jarrod rested his arms on his legs, with his hands hanging down as he gazed into the fire they had going. He hated doing what he now felt he had to do. "I need to send a telegram." he replied not really wanting to go into details. It's not that Paul wouldn't have listened, or that Jarrod didn't feel like he wasn't trustworthy, Jarrod just didn't feel like explaining either.

Paul didn't push for any information. He'd been around the block more times than a body could shake a stick at; he'd met saints, sinners and those who seemed to be trying to straddle the fence (Though, he never could figure that one out). All he ever saw when someone tried to saddle any fence was a lot of unnecessary trial and sorrow. "We'll head to the telegraph office the moment we get there," Paul promised as he went to lie down; Jarrod sat up for another hour before going to bed.


	7. Uncovering Some Facts

**I do NOT own The Big Valley or any of the original Barkley characters**.

**Against the Crooked Sky**

**Chapter Seven**

Heath's eyebrows turned downwards as he leaned up against the corral fence and read the telegram that he'd received just that morning. "_Have Brigham investigate Samson. Leaving Hawthorne now." _Heath was surprised beyond measure; Samson was a nickname Jarrod and Nick had given Mr. Miller. That man was the salt of the earth. Why would Jarrod want him investigated? Also, he was shocked when he saw the origin of the telegram. What was his brother doing in Southern Nevada?

Brigham walked up beside Heath and, glancing at the paper in his hands, asked, "What's wrong?" Something had to be wrong. Telegrams cost too much to send; that is, they cost too much to send everyday news on them, most of the time that meant only bad news. Maybe, he was being paranoid on that account; still, he braced himself for the worst.

Heath handed his brother in law the telegram and told Brigham what Jarrod wanted him to do. "For some reason, I guess, he thinks Brian Miller is involved in something that needs looking into." He watched the horse they'd put in the corral the day before running back and forth. He sometimes wished he were just as carefree as the horse seemed to be.

Brigham read the telegram more than once. All he could do was shake his head. He couldn't believe Mr. Miller needed anyone investigating him, but obviously his brother-in-law thought so. Brigham couldn't help it; he exploded. "WHAT is he doing in Hawthorne, Nevada! I thought he left here to discuss a reservation with a couple of Indian Affair agents?"

Heath shrugged his shoulders, "I have no idea. He never said a word about Nevada when he left here." Silently, in his mind, Heath chastised his oldest brother. "_Jarrod, you'd best come home and tell us; I don't want to read about it in some letter_!"

Brigham handed the telegram back to Heath as he shook his head. "I'll start investigating the man. Hopefully, I'll find something out before Nick gets back from his honeymoon. If he gets home and finds out something is amiss, he'll tear everyone apart trying to get answers and, who knows, that could make matters worse, whatever they are. I mean no disrespect to him really." He walked away his mind on his oldest brother in law and the telegram.

Heath didn't like this situation. Jarrod was an attorney and he was in a part of the country that was restless. The only thing that kept him from saddling Charger and taking off to get some answers face to face was the simple fact that Jarrod said he was leaving Hawthorne. Was he coming home or what? Well, maybe, by the time his brother in law got through investigating Brian, Jarrod _would_ be home. If that was the case, they'd get their answers soon enough.

**0000**

It wasn't just Heath and Brigham that wanted answers. Answers were something Brian Miller had been trying to get for some time, but he wasn't being very nice about it. It had been fourteen days since Jarrod disappeared and three since Heath had received the telegram. Brian had seen Brigham around town and assumed he was trying to locate his missing brother in law. Now Brian stood in his office talking to the two men who had been hired to kill Jarrod, failed and were refusing to track him down and retry. "He got on that train! Everyone saw him get on that train! How could you **not** see him? Are you sure **all** the passengers got off at that stop?" the man was furious. Jarrod was supposed to be dead by now, not on his way to Arizona! He'd made sure he knew what train Jarrod would be on, he'd doubled checked to make sure the man had actually taken the train, and he'd paid way too much for these two men's services!

Joshua Hill didn't like having his word doubted (so what if he did lie half the time) and he exploded, "I told you! I heard the engineer tell the conductor **everyone **was off the train! Someone must have told him the truth and that we were waiting for him! And, like I said before, you aren't getting any more of our services until you at least pay what you promised to have for us up front!" When it came to Jarrod, someone telling on them was the only thing Mr. Hill could come up with. Why else would the man not be on the train?

"No one told him the truth!" Brian snapped as he glared at the man before him. "If they had he'd be here with the law to arrest me for all my secret crimes, including the attempt on his life!" He opened his safe, grabbed some money, handed it to the two men and barked, "Now get yourselves down to the same trading post Jarrod's been told to meet the men at and do your job!" Brian picked up a map off his desk and shoved it into the man's hands.

In his anger, Brian had not shut the door to his safe. Joshua was willing to take the risk of going into a territory known for having Indian trouble, but he wasn't willing to continue to put up with Mr. Miller. He whipped out his gun and shot the man. Shock registered on the man's face as he fell to the floor. Joshua and his friend hurried and took the rest of the money and ran out the back door, the front one wasn't an option as the two heard footsteps hurrying towards the office.

Brigham had had extremely good luck and uncovered Brian's dirty dealings faster than he (Brigham) ever thought possible. That being the case, he had found out about Brian's connection to the man Jarrod had just brought down in court. He smelled a rat and he and Heath had left Stockton and hurried to San Francisco to confront the man. Upon entering the room, Heath ran and knelt down beside Brian. "Where's Jarrod?" He laid his hand on the man's shoulder hoping the fact that the man was dying would get any information the man may have out of him.

Brian winced in pain; the gut wound Mr. Hill had given him hurt like nothing he'd ever felt before. "H..e's be..en s..ent to t…alk to two ag…ents…" he closed his eyes as his body stiffened for a moment.

"Brian! Where!" Heath felt his heart pounding, not wanting the man to die before he told him where Jarrod had gone.

"If th..ose t…wo d..on't k..ill h..im, Ap..ach..e wi..ll." Brian took his last breath and died. Shock waves were going through Heath and Brigham.

"Those two? Apaches?" Heath looked at his brother in law, his confusion shown on his face, and then his look turned from puzzlement to horror. Brigham's face showed his alarm also.

Brigham jumped to his feet, "That telegram Jarrod sent, it came from Nevada. Ten to one, he's heading into Arizona or New Mexico! We best hurry and notify someone about the mess here and then get some telegrams sent off and see what we can find out! Brian may not have had time to confess everything, but I dare say Jarrod was set up!"

Heath didn't doubt that a bit, even if he was upset and shocked to realize how bad Brian had turned out to be. "I'll take care of him; go get those telegraphs sent off!"


	8. Chapter 8

**I do NOT own The Big Valley or any of the original Barkley characters**.

**Against the Crooked Sky**

**Chapter Eight**

The sun was blazing hot as Jarrod and Paul rode into Arizona. In fact, it was hot enough that both men had removed not only their jackets but their shirts as well. "Ever been in a place this hot before?" Paul turned his head and asked Jarrod. The grin that spread from one side of his friend's face to the other told Jarrod the man already knew the answer. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying it a bit too much.

"I've been a few places that aren't strangers to heat," Jarrod answered as he saw a trading post come into view, "And we're at the tail end of the nice weather. If we spend much time here, things really will heat up." It had to be the one he was supposed to meet the men at. After all, from what he'd been told by Brian, and by some in Hawthorne, the trading post was a good four days travel and the first stop over the Arizona border. Besides all that, Paul talked as if he knew the place well. "Hope those men are on time. I just as soon get this over with." Jarrod pushed Jingo harder; he was more than ready for a good meal. Paul was right behind him.

As they rode toward the trading post they noticed a couple of figures on horseback off in the distance. Even with the distance between them, Jarrod and Paul could tell they were two Indians. "Looks like we've got company. I can see the trading post up ahead, ride easy," Paul said as they continued on their way. That statement put Jarrod on the highest alert possible. He may have been 'riding easy', as Paul put it, but his eyes were open and moving constantly. By the time they reached the trading post Jarrod could see a half dozen Indians heading towards the small business. With that being the case, he and Paul wasted no time in putting their shirts on and getting inside.

When the door to the trading post opened, an elderly white haired gentleman, a young brown haired woman and a blond haired man looked up from the table they sat at. While the three did not look surprised to see mountain man, they knew him well, the stranger, the one who looked to be a true gentleman, shocked them. "Hello, Jim," Paul walked over and shook hands with the elderly man who had risen to his feet. Paul then introduced Jarrod to the three. "Meet Jim Hansen, his daughter, Trisha, and his son in law, Matthew Kline. I told you I'd been here before." His eyes sparkled as he spoke.

"Nice to meet you," Jarrod said as he shook their hands and then handed a list of supplies they needed to Jim, "Get much business out this way?" He looked around the small trading post knowing full well he had to have beaten the agents to the post; after all, there was no place for a man to sit down without being seen in this place.

"Enough to keep going," Mr. Hansen chuckled as he began getting the items on the list just handed to him, "Matthew has told me a number of times I need to give it up, says we should at least move to someplace like Hawthorne. Let's not worry about me and this here post; where you two heading?"

Jarrod shrugged his shoulders and told his story. The more he talked the wider Jim's eyes got. "That explains why the Indians have been so restless; we've even had a bit of trouble not far from us. You and those men may wind up wishing you'd just met in your office. The two of you can stay in my cabin if you'd like, but I wouldn't be surprised if your men don't show up. After all, like I just said, the Indians sure are restless." Jim shook his head and disappeared into the back room.

When Jarrod heard a man's voice and what sounded like a scuffle, he stepped out of the trading post just in time to see an Indian maid struggling to get free from a white man dressed in buckskin pants and a buckskin jacket. When the stranger went to hit the woman, Jarrod flew into action. Seeing how the man was a mere two feet from him, Jarrod quickly stepped over to where the man stood, pulled him away from the woman, and then planted one of his fists into the man's abdomen and the other fist across his cheek. The stranger came up swinging, he went for Jarrod's face only to miss and find Jarrod's fist again finding its way to his abdomen.

"She's just a squaw," the man bellowed as he came up and rammed himself into Jarrod, both men fell to the ground. When the stranger managed to get his hands around Jarrod's throat, Jarrod quickly slid his arms up and in between the man's arms and managed to break the man's hold. Just as quickly he'd tossed him off to the side. The man then made the mistake of going for his gun; Jarrod had his out so fast it made the man's head spin, but the bullet from the pistol put an end to the show. The braves, who had been nearby watching turned away and went into the trading post to get the items they'd come for.

"Are you all right?" Jarrod put his pistol back and turned to face the woman. He hadn't realized how short she was; she couldn't be more than five feet two inches. Her pitch-black hair reminded him of coal, and it hung to her waist. She had a medium build, but wasn't heavy. Though he was shocked to realize she bore a fresh scar upon her left cheek; he assumed the stranger put it there.

"He take me. Make me leave my people. He bad man." She looked at Jarrod and the others. "Why you help?" She looked at Jarrod; she wasn't used to a white man defending her.

Took her? Good grief. Any family, white or Indian, would be furious if a family member was kidnapped. Now he'd have to hope the trading post wasn't attacked before the agents arrived, just what he didn't need. Jarrod smiled at her; she saw genuine sincerity in his eyes and heard it in his voice as he answered, "You're a human being, just as much as any other woman. No one should be allowed to hit you. What's your name?"

"Apache call me Gentle Wind." she answered as Paul and the others came out of the trading post. They looked from the dead man to Jarrod and to the woman who stood in front of him. Before any of them could ask, Jarrod explained what had happened.

"Her family will be looking for her, you know that?" Jim looked from Jarrod to the trading post behind him. Jarrod didn't have to ask the man why he was asking such a question he knew. Jim's words, and Jarrod's thoughts, were cemented in when the woman spoke again.

"I tell him leave me. Tell him my father will have brothers find me," she held her head high, "He not listen. Cover my eyes many days, not want me to know where he take me. He not cover father's eyes; not cover brother's eyes."

Jarrod looked at Jim; the old man smiled and told him, "Apaches take care of their own. I dare say if they'd realized he had her by force he'd have been dead before now. I'll go talk to the men inside. I'm sure one of them will be willing to take her home. Now," he said as he looked at Paul and Jarrod, "Why don't the two of you come in and finish up your business?" Neither Paul nor Jarrod argued as the Indian maiden followed them into the building; all three men were very much relieved when one of the Apaches agreed to get the woman back to her family.


	9. Chapter 9

**I do NOT own The Big Valley or any of the original Barkley characters**.

**Against the Crooked Sky Part One**

**Chapter Nine**

Jarrod looked around the cabin Mr. Hansen had said he and Paul could use until the men who were supposed to meet him arrived at the trading post. The place wasn't very large. The 'kitchen' and 'living room' were actually the same room. A potbellied stove sat off in the left hand corner of the room, and a small table and a couple of chairs sat against the window. There was nothing that even came close to resembling a couch. He stepped through an opening that sat next to the potbellied stove and found himself looking at two beds, one on each side of the room with a door on the north wall; he'd entered the door on the south side. Yep, he'd slept in fancier places than this for sure, but he threw his gear underneath one of the beds. The cabin would have to do for now.

He shook his head just a little as he stepped out the back door and looked around; he still couldn't believe what was happening. He was supposed to be riding around the area the reservation would be on and talking to the agents, not waiting on them to get there! Didn't those blasted agents know how important it was to stay on schedule?

Paul walked up to him and stifled a huge laugh, as it was he chuckled slightly; he couldn't help it. After all, he never thought he'd see the day Jarrod Barkley, attorney at law, would be sharing a cabin with him! "You'll survive until those men get here." He slapped his friend on the back and went inside; he was tired.

Jarrod turned to go into the cabin and saw them, a few Apache men off to his left. They just sat on their horses and looked at him. It made Jarrod nervous; after all, he didn't know what they wanted. He was relieved when they turned their horses around and rode away. He watched them disappear and then went inside. Paul was lying down on one of the beds when he entered the cabin. Shutting the door behind him, he lay down on the second bed.

"Do you think the Apaches will give us trouble?" He spoke after a few moments. He remembered the stories and found himself wondering more than ever which ones were true and which ones weren't, especially the ones that said the Apache were kind and gentle with their own, but extremely cruel to those they considered their enemy.

Paul didn't answer for a few minutes. He had been in a lot of places, and despite what some people thought, those places had not all been mountains. He'd seen many people and seen a lot of them cause trouble, white and Indian both. "In the past I'd say as long as we leave them alone, we'll be fine," Paul answered as he turned his face towards Jarrod with a solemn look, "But, with how restless some of them are right now, we'll have to pray we can meet those men you're waiting for, and get the business you came here for, done and then get out without too much of a problem." He then turned his back to Jarrod and fell asleep.

As much as Jarrod would have liked to have fallen asleep as fast as his friend did, he couldn't. His mind dwelt on his family and the brother he knew he really should have asked to come along, Heath. Heath had a way with people, a way that Jarrod had secretly found himself a bit jealous of at times. Oh sure, he had a knack of being able to talk to people and such, but Heath had a way of seeing through them a lot faster than anyone he knew. His quiet ways and manner seemed to calm the most cantankerous man down.

Jarrod sat up and leaned back against the cabin wall. He looked on the one window the room had in it. Once again, he could see Apaches coming and going in the distance; a couple looked like they were fighting only, after a few minutes, the two stopped and started laughing. At least, Jarrod assumed they were from the way they were holding their sides. He could see Nick and Heath, Nick bellowing and throwing his fists around only to stop and stare when Heath's quiet, and sometimes very blunt answers, would stop his (Nick's) tirade just as quick as throwing cold water in someone's face would.

Jarrod thought about each member of his family and sighed. If this trip was unsuccessful, if for some reason the Apaches killed him, he prayed like mad he'd been able to say the right things in the letters he'd left behind for them. He hoped they would know he'd simply trying to do what he could for a people who had been, in all reality, treated just as barbarically and cruelly as anyone had ever accused them of being. He lay back down and finally relaxed enough to get some sleep.

Outside the Apaches he'd seen had ridden off with the exception of two, an Apache by the name of Running Wolf and his friend, Cochise (named after the *great Apache leader who had just died the year before). Both men were concerned with the arrival of the two white men they'd seen enter the cabin. The two Apaches knew Mr. Hansen and his family, they liked them and respected them for Jim, his son in law, and his daughter had all helped out the Apaches on many occasions. Their conversation, before they turned and left, was filled with the concern that these two new white men would bring more white men and so forth, The Apaches didn't want that; their people had already been treated quite badly by the white man's chief and those who worked for them. They did not wish for more trouble. Slowly, the two men finally turned and rode away.

.org/wiki/Cochise

*Cochise (Apache K'uu-ch'ish "oak"; c. 1805–June 8, 1874) was a chief (a nantan) of the Chokonen ("central" or "real" Chiricahua) band of the Chiricahua Apache and the leader of an uprising that began in 1861. Cochise County, Arizona is named after him.[


	10. More Facts

**Against the Crooked Sky ******

**Chapter Ten ****  
><strong>  
>Heath sat in the study, next to Jarrod's hauntingly empty desk. Brigham sat in a chair he'd pulled over near the window; he had a habit of positioning himself so he could see both the person, or people, he was talking to and anyone who might be coming, a habit he'd acquired from his many years of bounty hunting and various jobs he'd done. Nick leaned against the bookshelf, still fuming. "All he told me was he had business to take care! Why didn't he tell me how long he'd be gone! I would have known something wasn't right!"<p>

Heath shook his head and replied quietly, "What would you have done if he was the one getting married and you were the one having to leave? Would you have walked up to him and said, 'Good luck on your marriage and, oh by the way, when you get back from your honeymoon to London, a trip that was partly paid for by your little brother Eugene, I may or may not be here.'" He gave Nick a look that screamed, "Get real!"

It worked, Nick simmered own. After a few minutes of letting his highly agitated nerves calm down, he let out a huge sigh. "No, no I guess I wouldn't have, but Arizona? Apaches?" He looked at Brigham with a pleading look in his eyes and asked, "Are you sure?" The thought of Jarrod finding himself facing even one Apache brave made Nick shudder. He'd served in the war with a few of the Apaches that had chosen to be in the fight; he knew how ruthless they could become. All right, he had to admit he'd also met some pretty honorable ones too; still… "_Oh, Jarrod! WHY didn't you say something? One of us could have gone with you!"_ That was what really upset Nick the most, the fact that Jarrod had gone alone, though, if Brigham and Heath were right, Nick could guess why.

Brigham's shoulders slumped slightly, and he rubbed his forehead, "It's just an educated guess. The thing is that huge case Jarrod won just a couple of months back? Brian was connected to them; Jarrod cost him thousands. That and those agents, the ones he was supposed to meet?" He looked from Nick to Heath. "They're in Washington; they don't know a thing about the supposed meeting, but there is talk that the government is planning to create more reservations somewhere in the near future and, up to a few days ago, guess who the man receiving all the information concerning anything being planned in California, New Mexico and Arizona was?" He looked at his brother in laws as if to say, don't tell me you don't know.

"Brian," Both Nick and Heath answered at the same time, both sounded quite disgusted and disappointed. Their former friend had been such a good man at one time; the fact that he'd gone bad was still a hard pill to swallow.

Brigham nodded his head. "Yep, my guess is that Brian wanted revenge for his connections being brought down and used the information he got from Washington to convince Jarrod to go to Arizona to meet the agents. All the while, he really intended to have him killed."

Heath thought on the letters. He stood up, "There's something else I think you need to be given Nick." Nick stiffened as Heath opened up the Jarrod's safe and lifted up the false bottom that he, Jarrod had put in before he left. He watched as Heath pulled out an envelope and shut the door. The fact that his brother tapped it up and down on his palm before turning around didn't help his brother's nerves any.

"Well?" Nick growled as he stepped away from the bookshelf. Heath turned and looked at him.

"We don't know what it says. However, we each got one too. That is, I have Mother's, Eugene's and Audra's in there too." He nodded towards the safe and went on to explain everything that had happened the night that Nick and Amelia had left for their honeymoon. "But," he handed the envelope to his brother, "Everything considered, I think it best we find out what's in there." He didn't have to repeat himself; Nick was ripping the envelope open as if the thing was on fire.

He began reading. "_Dear Nick, If you are reading this I am guessing something has happened to me after I left for Arizona_…" Nick, and the others stiffened, the Arizona guess had been correct after all!

"What does the rest of it say?" Heath asked as Nick was reading, but had fallen into silence. The air was so thick it was hard to breath.

Nick shook his head, fighting the fear in his heart. "You're right, Brigham; he's gone down there thinking he's meeting Indian Affair agents. The rest of it is personal. Your letters are probably the same way."

Again, silence hung in the air. The tension, the worry, and the fear all seemed to be pressing down upon each nerve and fiber of their bodies. Finally, Heath broke the silence as he asked Brigham, "Were you able to find out exactly where they were supposedly going to meet?"

Brigham shook his head and replied, "Not yet, but my contacts are working on it."

"We just need to get down there and started looking!" Nick bellowed and headed for the door only to have Heath stop him with some very simple questions. "What part of Arizona should we look in? Or should we head to Hawthorne and see if someone there knows exactly where we start looking? If we do that, where should Brigham send any replies he gets? Nick, listen to me." Heath stepped in front of his brother. "We will be wasting a lot of valuable time if we don't have someplace to start! Give Brigham's men the time they need! They've found out a lot in just two days; they'll find more, and we'll have a place to start!" Heath hated having to make Nick see why they had to wait. He, himself, wanted to go look just as badly as Nick; he just wanted a point to start at. Before Nick could answer Victoria walked in the door.

**0000**

The wind was blowing up something fierce as the red haired Joshua Hill and his friend, Luke Waters, made their way to a small cave; they were now in the northern part of Nevada. Once inside, Luke turned on Joshua. "I don't see why you're insisting on going through with this! You shot Brian, and we have all the money! Why not leave Mr. Barkley to the Apaches? From what I hear, there are quite a few Renegades running around in that area right now!"

Joshua threw a handful of wood on the fire he'd just started and barked back, "When you joined up with me, I told you we don't take money for a job not done! I don't care if the man who hired us is dead; we took the money that means we still have a job to finish!" He wasn't about to admit he'd made a mistake in not backing out of the deal once he realized they'd have to go into Arizona. An angry Apache was something the man did not wish to come across. Still, his pride wouldn't let him admit he'd made a mistake.

Luke said nothing as he looked out into the night and listened to the wind howl. They had a long journey ahead of them. If it weren't for the fact his friend did nothing to disprove the myth that red heads had a temper, Luke would have just taken off. Matter of fact was, Luke didn't really have much of a backbone when it came to his friend, and he'd promised to stick by Joshua on this job. Breaking that promise meant facing the man's wrath, and Luke didn't care to do that.


	11. Chapter 11

**Against the Crooked Sky ******

**Chapter Eleven ****  
><strong>  
>The sun had only been up an hour, but Jarrod had been up for at least two. He'd been awakened by the sound of voices talking, ones that weren't speaking English. He'd quickly grabbed his rifle, which stood against the wall, and waited to see if any of the Apaches meant to come inside. Much to his relief, the Indians had simply walked off. Unfortunately, it meant he had lost any hope of going back to sleep. After all, he was on full alert. That being the case, Jarrod sat by the table and let his mind wander over the business he thought he would be dealing with sooner or later.<p>

As Jarrod thought about the Apaches he'd seen the day before, and the ones he's just heard outside the cabin, he began to wonder if the Apaches were the cause of the Indian Affair agents' delay. Were they still coming? Were they even still alive? Most of all, he had to decide how long to wait before he gave up and headed back to California. Once the sun was up in the sky and giving light to the earth, Jarrod ventured outside.

Arizona might be desert in a lot of areas, but this mountainside Jarrod was looking at was beautiful. From out of the corner of his eye he saw two Apaches on their horses looking at him. For a split second, Jarrod thought about hurrying back inside, but he didn't. He acted as if he hadn't seen the two men. The last thing he needed was act as if he meant to attack them; he didn't intend to do any such thing. He wanted no trouble if he could avoid it. He could hear Paul moving around through the slightly opened door. Jarrod began praying like mad his friend would either stay inside or come out and act normal. The old mountain man did the latter.

"You realize," Paul spoke in a low voice, but not a whisper, "We're being watched." He had seen the Apaches through the window and, with Jarrod outside, had figured he'd best go join his friend.

"I do," Jarrod answered back as he kept his eyes forward and again asked, "Do you think they'll make trouble for us?" As he thought about that (the possibility of trouble with renegade Apaches) he was reminded just why he had left his brothers out of the trip, even if he probably should have included them.

Paul shrugged his shoulders and answered, "Who knows? All I know is we need to go down to the trading post. We forgot a few things and, if we don't act normal, we don't stand a chance of surviving anything." He headed for the horses, surprised renegade Apaches hadn't taken off with them. Jarrod followed him.

As they rode towards the trading post, the two men kept their eyes open. Sure enough, they saw a few Apaches watching them. It was enough to make their hair stand on end. Soon the trees that filled the mountain they'd been on disappeared and the trading post could be seen not twenty yards away, but by the time the two men had reached the building it seemed like it might as well have been a hundred miles. Jim was outside by the time Jarrod and Paul dismounted their horses.

When Jim started to walk in the direction they were in, Jarrod and Paul thought he was heading for them only to be shocked when he called out joyously, "Running Wolf! Cochise! How are you? So good to see you again!" Mr. Hansen walked right past Jarrod and Paul and stopped by the two Apaches, who had dismounted their horses.

"Good see you, friend," Running Wolf smiled, "I come thank you. Running Bear say help Gentle Wind. Ask him bring Gentle Wind back to village."

The Apaches were stunned when Jim nodded his head, but pointed to Jarrod. "Mr. Barkley is the one who stepped in and saved her. You should be thanking him too." Jim was like that, he would only take the credit he felt was due him; he never took what he felt belonged to another.

Jarrod watched as the Apache Jim had called Running Wolf walked up to him. "You save Gentle Wind? You white man she talk about?" He kept his eyes on Jarrod's face as if he was trying to read it. It made Jarrod feel as if he was in a courtroom only he was the one on the witness stand.

"I am; the other man was hurting her," Jarrod answered bluntly seeing no other way he could answer. After all, Paul had assured him Apaches hated the white man so much because 'too many of them talk with a forked tongue'. If he were to have any chance of making it home alive, he would have to be as blunt and honest as possible.

Running Wolf nodded, "She say same. Thank you." He then turned back to his friend, Cochise, and to Jim. Paul and Jarrod made their way into the post and started locating the items they needed. When Jim and his friends entered the trading post, Jarrod felt the Apaches' eyes on him once more. Jarrod forced himself to continue getting the things they needed.

"How much?" Jarrod asked Jim as he laid down the items they'd traveled down from the cabin for. Jim told him and Jarrod paid. Then, because the two Apaches and Paul (who had struck up a conversation with Running Wolf) had gone back outside, Jarrod asked, "Have you seen any signs of the agents I am to meet?"

Jim shook his head, "Believe me, I would know if they were around. However, I'll send them up when I do see them." Jarrod thank him and went outside to get Paul, who was still talking to Running Wolf.


	12. Letters and more information

**I do NOT own The Big Valley, nor do I own any of the original Barkley characters. Thanks again to my Beta Reader, for all the time she spent helping me this story. ***In the letter Heath has Jarrod refers to him racing the train. Of course, that's from The Palms of Glory (which it seems likes to put bit and pieces into a lot of my stories).

**Against the Crooked Sky **

**Chapter Twelve**

The moon and stars sent down their light and wrapped it around the lone cowboy as he leaned against the empty corral. It was as if the lights in the sky were trying to soothe the man's troubled mind and heart, forget the many small boards and various sized rocks that had been thrown or kicked in every direction. They, the moon and stars, seemed to know throwing and kicking the objects had been the only way the man knew of getting the anger out of him without hurting anyone.

Nick looked at the letter in his hands. He was angry at Jarrod for leaving the family in the dark and scared to death that Jarrod would fail to return in the time he'd given the family that he'd be either been killed by whoever Brian meant by 'those two' or the renegade Apaches before Brigham or his men could give them a starting point. Slowly, he reread a portion of the letter. _"…when father died I had to step in and take the role of father to Audra and Eugene. Somewhere along the line even you started to refer to me as 'Pappy' at times, even if I didn't really care for it. Nick, if you're reading this letter I dare say you've broken everything possible and thrown a few things around. Fine, if you need to get it out, get it out. Let it out! That's good. Now, STOP! You have a ranch to run, a wife to provide for and the family needs you to be strong, not running off and crawling into a bottle or becoming so cantankerous that everyone is driven away…..remember, I am very proud to have you as my brother, I always have been. I don't care if you're loud and obnoxious; you know right from wrong and that's all that matters to me…Stand tall, Nick. Love, Jarrod."_

The breeze that had begun blew gently across Nick's face. He did his best to compose himself. He hated feeling useless! He hated being on the ranch and he felt like he should be heading to Arizona. Only, Heath was right. Where would they start? As it was, Brigham and his men were working round the clock trying to get some more answers. He hit the side of the corral one more time before heading back into the house.

From where she stood, Audra could see Nick heading back into the house. She sighed as she looked from her infant son, who lay in his cradle, to the letter she held in her hands. Her eyes were red from the tears that had run down her cheeks faster than the water that came out from their water pump. She didn't blame Nick for the outburst she'd just witnessed. She might not have been throwing things around or kicking them, but she was just as upset and as scared as anyone else was. She too looked down at the paper in her hands. She felt as if she was reading someone else's letter.

_"…..you're a bright, intelligent young woman. You have inherited our mother's spunk and strong spirit. You amaze me every day, though I admit I wanted to tan your hide when you took off that day by the river and then didn't return. Every night I thank the man upstairs it was Brigham who grabbed your reins. I shudder to think what would have become of you had it been one of those men following you. As I write this letter I wonder about the child you carry. Will it be a boy? Will you have a daughter? Unless that baby comes soon, I will have to leave hoping and praying all goes well with you. Audra….. remember, McCallister or Barkley, I love you, sis. Love, Jarrod." _"Oh, Jarrod." Audra's tears began to fall again, "Where are you?"

Heath was walking past Audra's room when he heard her whispered question. It tore at his heart. How he wanted to fly into her room and assure her everything was okay, to tell her Brigham would get the needed answers and then he and Nick could head out and look for their brother. He couldn't though, and he knew it. He walked away with the words his brother had written to him still ringing in his ears. "_…you're a Barkley. Don't ever let anyone tell you different. I may not have known it was my half brother whom I was betting on that first day, but I__** knew **__there was something special about you; I was right. …stand by Nick, Heath. I know he, you and the rest of the family will be upset with me. That is, if you're reading the letters I gave you, you will be. Please, find it in your heart to forgive me. I couldn't bring myself to ask any of you to come with me…let me say it once more, _**never**_ forget you __**are**__ a Barkley! Love, Jarrod."_

Heath walked down the stairs and into the living room. His mother sat on the couch reading her letter for the hundredth time. "He should have told us." Her voice was filled with anger, hurt, fear for her son and a dozen other emotions. She held up the letter and shook it slightly. Heath sat down beside her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders just as Nick walked in the door. One look at his mother's tear stained face and he hurried over and sat down on the other side of her.

"You okay, mother?" Nick looked at his mother and remembered the words in the letter Jarrod had written to him. He had to stand tall, for her sake, if not for the family's. He couldn't let her down.

Victoria nodded as she held her letter close. "Maybe Brigham will have news soon and the two of you can go bring him home." Nick and Heath looked at each other. What could they say or do? They knew her pain, anger, and most of all her fear for their brother's safety. The pain filled silence was broken when Brigham walked in the door. His slow walk and solemn face did not do anything to help lift their spirits.

"What is it?" Nick asked as he stood up. If it was bad news, which he assumed it must be by the way Brigham was acting, he needed to be strong for the family, as Jarrod had asked him to be.

"Two of Brian's associates, men wanted by the law for robbery and murder, fit the description of the two men who were watching the train." Brigham sat down on the chair nearest the empty fireplace. "There was also a small book found in an hidden compartment in Brian's office. It was a record of everyone who he's paid or planned on paying. Those men were hired to kill Jarrod."

Shock waves went though each and every one of them. Heath sat straight up and pointed out the fact that Jarrod had gotten off the train before those men were seen. "Maybe, he found out about it and that's why he got off early."

Nick shook his head. It took every ounce of strength he had not to explode, though he did bark quite loudly, "That doesn't make sense! If he knew, why would he continue on to Arizona? He had to have headed there. That telegram came from Hawthorne, Nevada! Did you find out exactly where Brian sent him off to? We can't keep sitting around here and doing nothing!" Nick felt as if he was climbing the walls all over again. He downright hated not being able to do anything!

"I have men working on it, Nick. It's only been twenty-four hours; you agreed to give us seventy-two." Brigham, tired and worried himself, barked louder than he meant too. It took Heath standing up and putting himself in between the two of them to get both men to calm down.

Nick stormed out of the room; he needed fresh air again. Brigham and Heath sat back down, but neither one spoke. It was a good fifteen minutes of deafening silence before Brigham left the room wanting to read his own letter, but Heath remained by Victoria's side.


	13. Warning

**I do NOT own The Big Valley, nor do I own any of the original Barkley characters. Thanks again to my Beta Reader, for all the time she spent helping me this story.**

**Against the Crooked Sky **

**Chapter Thirteen**

Jarrod and Paul were heading back towards the cabin when Jarrod began to fill light headed and dizzy. Before he knew it he was falling forward and Paul was grabbing a hold of him. "Whoa, boy!" his friend stopped him from falling and jumped onto Jarrod's horse, sitting behind him, to keep Jarrod from falling off. By the time they reached the cabin, Paul had said a few choice words.

The minutes ticked by, then hours. By the time Jarrod opened his eyes five hours had passed, and Paul wasn't looking very happy. "What happened?" Jarrod tried to sit up only to find himself very weak. He was horrified. Sure, he'd been feeling a bit under the weather, but not so bad he thought he'd wind up on his back.

Paul shook his head as he answered, "Don't take a genius to figure that one out," he walked over and helped prop Jarrod up against the pillow behind his back, "You haven't been eating like you should, I see how you've been picking at your food; you've also been stressing out. I dare say you haven't been slept well on more than one night and you're overheated. You're lucky you haven't killed yourself," he answered as he handed Jarrod some water, "You need to get your strength back."

Jarrod drank the water down thankful his friend had been with him when he passed out. He hoped he would be well by the time the agents arrived at the trading post. He hated the idea of the men traveling all the way to Arizona and the post only to find him, Jarrod, sick on his back, especially with all the Apaches who seemed to keep coming and going around the place.

As he watched Paul, Jarrod become aware the man was acting more alert than usual. In fact, the man was acting as if he expected trouble what with the way he kept looking out the window and never made a move without his rifle by his side. Jarrod did not like that. In his condition, if the Apaches attacked, he would not be able to defend himself once his own bullets ran out.

"Expecting company?" Jarrod asked. He watched as Paul turned to face him. His friend's eyes were full of great concern. It didn't take a highly educated man to figure out the answer to that one. It didn't matter though Paul was never one to let a question go unanswered.

"Maybe, more than one Apache around, and from what Jim and Running Wolf both told me while you were looking around the post, there are renegade Apaches causing trouble." Paul didn't tell him that he, Paul, had had to kill one already. The man figured Jarrod needed to recover, not lie in bed worrying about the fact that he, Paul, had come close to losing the fight.

When the door began opening, Paul had his rifle ready, just in case. Running Wolf appeared in the doorway; Paul relaxed. He'd had a chance to good long talk with this Apache; he was not a bad man. "Good way to get shot," Paul set his rifle up against the wall and said, motioning to the chair on the other side of the table, "Sit my friend. Want some food?" He had yet to meet any human being who would turn down food.

Running Wolf sat down and waited until Paul put some food on the table for him before he began speaking. "Friend not well?" He looked at Jarrod, who was making sure he ate all the food his friend had given him. After all, the old mountain man knew how to put his foot down when he needed to, and he'd put it down with Jarrod.

"He's just been pushing himself to hard," Paul turned his head and grinned at Jarrod before turning his attention back Running Wolf and, after they'd visited for a good fifteen minutes, asked, "How can I really help you? You didn't come here just for my food and to talk; I'm not that good of a cook and, as you can see, not very entertaining."

"Leave," Running Wolf answered bluntly, "Trouble come soon. Bad on both sides make trouble all time. This time bad Apache talk trouble. Me, Cochise, friends, do what we can, but I make no promises." Running Wolf did not hurt anyone if he could possibly help it. And, as now, he did warn those he could of any impending danger.

Paul looked at Jarrod, the man had finished his food and fallen back to sleep. He remembered what his friend had said he had traveled to Arizona for. If the renegade Apaches found out what his business was, they were bound to kill him, yet Jarrod wouldn't leave without meeting those agents. He shook his head slightly and turned his attention back to Running Wolf.

"My friend is waiting for a couple of men. He's not the kind to break his word and turn his back on those he's given that word too. I can't turn my back on him." He looked at the Apache man as if to say, "_Don't tell me you don't understand."_

Running Wolf stood up and walked to the opening to the room that held the beds. He watched Jarrod sleep for a few minutes. "Not many men keep word in troubled time. Too much like making sky crooked and running against it. Me, Cochise, friends do best to keep eye on cabin. Wish I can promise more. I cannot." Then he walked out the back door leaving Paul wondering if more trouble would come and, if it came, if Running Wolf and his friends would be able to help. A part of him said just to leave, but he knew Jarrod would not change his mind. After all, Jarrod had given his word and would not break it.

Paul looked out the window and watched Running Wolf ride off with some other Apaches. After they disappeared, Paul checked both his rifle and Jarrod's, and then he checked their pistols. If the renegade Apaches Running Wolf talked about came, he wanted to make sure he and Jarrod were ready for them. He just hoped Jarrod would have his strength back by the time that happened.


	14. Agents show up

**I do NOT own The Big Valley, nor do I own any of the original Barkley characters. Thanks again to my Beta Reader, for all the time she spent helping me this story. **

**Against the Crooked Sky **

**Chapter Fourteen**

Joshua and Luke tied their horses to the hitching post outside and headed for the trading post's front door. So intent were they on finding Jarrod that they were completely oblivious to the Apaches who were watching from a distance. If they'd been more alert, they would have hightailed it back in the direction they'd come. As it was, they opened the door and stepped inside. No one was around. The two men walked around the business as Luke yelled, "Hello!" That brought Matthew Hansen out of the back.

One look at the men and Matthew got the funniest feeling his gut. That put him on the alert as he had a way of sensing whether or not a man was good or bad. There was something bad about these men. His suspicions only grew as Joshua spoke. "Hello, my name is Bryson Tate. This man is James Brandon; we're with the Bureau of Indian Affairs. We're supposed to meet a Jarrod Barkley here."

Now Matthew knew something was amiss. He may have been born at night, but it wasn't the night before! Two men dressed in clothes worn by those who worked with their hands and a strong back did not work for any government agency. Still, if he was to alert Mr. Barkley he had to make sure these men stayed at the post. "I will go ask my father if he knows anything." He turned and disappeared into the back.

Joshua walked around looking at the various items. As he saw a saw with the initials J. P. on it, he had to chuckle. His grandfather's name had been Joseph Pierce; the old man had done his best to raise Joshua after the lad's parents had died from 'the fever'. He'd tried to teach him right from wrong and taken him to church every Sunday. It hadn't done a bit of good though. Joshua turned wild at sixteen and ran away and talked a ship's captain into hiring him. He'd worked as a sailor for three years and then his gambling and con jobs he'd pulled had landed him in prison for four years. It hadn't helped either.

Luke watched Joshua walking around and kept an eye out the window. Unlike Joshua, he'd finally noticed the Apaches off in the distance. He hoped they kept their distance; he didn't want to die. The thought of dying had him going over his own life. His father had been a coal miner and his mother a seamstress. The couple had done their best to raise their seven children up right; for the most part they'd succeeded. Their four daughters were all married to good, hard working, Christian men. Their oldest son taught school and their youngest one was studying to become a doctor. It was Luke who had been their source of heartache. He'd fallen into the wrong crowd and, as hard as his parents had tried, he'd only got worse. By the time he was seventeen, Luke's parents had had enough and kicked him out.

While Joshua and Luke were looking around, Jim had, after hearing what Matthew said, sent the man up to the cabin to tell Jarrod what was going on. Then he, Jim, waited a few minutes before going back up to the front of the trading post to deal with the strangers. One look at the strangers and Jim found himself agreeing with Matthew; something was wrong. "I hear you're looking for one Jarrod Barkley." He kept a smile upon his face as he looked at Joshua; the man had walked up to the counter.

"Yes, we are. Has he been here?" Joshua asked through the worst smile Jim had ever seen.

For a moment Jim did not answer, and then he nodded. "He and a friend are staying up at my cabin." He wasn't surprised when the man in front of him leaned forward a bit and inquired about the location of the cabin. A noise from the back made it so all three men were looking towards the back of the Post. Excusing himself, Jim disappeared into the back. He was gone for a few minutes, and then came back. "Sorry, my daughter had a slight accident, nothing major. Now, what were we talking about?" He looked at the men, purposely acting as if he'd honestly forgotten what the two needed.

"The cabin," Joshua looked at him, irritation in his eyes, "We need to meet with Mr. Barkley." He was fuming on the inside, but he had to get the information from this old man and get on his way. He thought he was succeeding as the gentleman gave him instructions. Jim then watched as both men hightailed it out of the post. He walked walk over to the window and chuckled as, from a distance, he saw a few Apaches headed in the same direction. Oh well, if the two strangers were stupid enough to think agents dressed like that, they would deserve anything that came their way.

Joshua and Luke made their way up the trail that led to the cabin. Each was thinking of where he'd go once they'd finished this job. Dance hall girls flashed through their minds, along with a good poker game, were just some of the pictures they saw. When the cabin came into sight they made their way over to a couple of boulders. Joshua looked at Luke and nodded towards the cabin. "Go up there and knock on the door. Get Mr. Barkley to come out onto the porch. I'll take care of him after that." He watched as Luke did as he was told.

Jarrod (who had been up and around for days) and Paul were sitting at the table discussing what Matthew had told them when a knock came at the door. Paul, who didn't like what Jim's son in law had told him any more than Jarrod did, had his gun in his hand in no time flat. Jarrod stood up and went to answer the door.


	15. Attacked

**I do NOT own The Big Valley, nor do I own any of the original Barkley characters. Thanks again to my Beta Reader, for all the time she spent helping me this story. **

**Against the Crooked Sky **

**Chapter Fifteen**

From where he was hiding behind the bolder, Joshua could see Jarrod open the door. He waited for Luke to step aside then took aim at his target. In spite of what he'd told Luke, it wasn't the fact that he'd taken money from Brian that drove him to follow a man clear to Arizona. It was pride, flat out pride. Jarrod had evaded him when he'd left the train early and left Joshua wondering what he had missed. He didn't like that one tiny bit. Just as he went to pull the trigger, pure, unadulterated shock registered as he felt something penetrate his skin in between his shoulder blades. He let out a cry as things began to grow dark. It was only then that he saw him, an Apache glaring at him with such hatred it chilled Joshua to the bone. As he fell to the ground Joshua realized it must he an arrow he had in his back. It was the last thought he'd have as a living being.

Hearing the scream, Luke whirled around only to find an arrow in his upper thigh. He screamed and fell. Jarrod pulled the man in and slammed the door shut. The screams the renegade Apaches were making were horrible, as if they were trying to wake the dead, so they could have extra help. Luke's painful screams and pitiful crying didn't help the situation any.

"Put a sock in it!" Paul growled at the man as he handed him something to bite down on. Sure, if he could get the arrow out right away and tend to the wound, the man's life could be saved. As it was, Paul had broken the glass and was shooting at the renegade Indians; they were shooting with both guns and bows and arrows.

Paul was horrified as one minute he was shooting at the renegades and the next moment Jarrod was lying on the floor, an arrow in his left shoulder and, from the looks of it, a bullet had creased the temple of his forehead. He rushed to his side just as he heard Running Wolf's cry, along with cries from the man's friends. While Running Wolf and his friends took care of the renegades, Paul hurried to get Jarrod's bleeding under control, not easy as the arrow busted as he tried to get it out. By the time he had accomplished that, Running Wolf had run into the cabin. He stood over Luke who was still acting more like a two year old child than a man. "Why you help bad Apache?" he demanded quite loudly. The man's eyes were wide with fear.

"Answer him!" Paul barked as Luke continued to hold his thigh and wince in pain. "You and that friend of yours, you're not the men he was waiting for!" He didn't worry about formalities; Jarrod had spent weeks away from his family as it was and was now fighting for his life. The Barkleys were going through hell when it came to wondering where his friend was and why, and would go through more when they read the letters Jarrod had said he'd left behind. Paul wanted answers, and he wanted them like yesterday. His glare was worse than the arrow in Luke's thigh. The man gave in and spilled the beans.

"We weren't helping them! We didn't know they were there! Brian Miller hired us! Not only was Brian angry at all the money he lost, but he was afraid Mr. Barkley would find out that it was he who was the real boss of the operation." Shock waves ran through Paul. Jarrod had sent the telegraph off asking that his 'friend' be investigated, but to hear that the man was the man Jarrod should have brought down and sent to prison boggled Paul's mind.

After hearing the story repeated by Luke, Running Wolf hurried over to where Paul was tending to Jarrod. "He need broken arrow out of shoulder. You do that?" the Apache hoped so; he was not very good at taking objects out of a person.

"I have removed bullets; I can remove an arrowhead. Help me get him onto the bed," Paul said as Running Wolf bent down to help. Soon they had Jarrod on the bed, and Paul was feverishly working to get the arrowhead out. Meanwhile, Luke was still angry that he lay wounded and no one was trying to help him; he made the mistake of trying to get a nearby gun. He never got it as Running Wolf took his lance and finished the man off. He, Running Wolf, may not like killing, but he wasn't about to stand by and be killed by another either.

Perspiration rolled off Paul's forehead and he licked his lips more than once as he worked on an unconscious Jarrod. He was grateful he had taken many objects out of more than one man, or he'd have been planning a funeral instead. As it was, within the hour he had the arrowhead out and had Jarrod bandaged up. "He's going to need a place to recover and someone to tend to him; it's not safe here at the cabin." Paul said as he pulled a chair over next to the bed and sat down. Running Wolf, who had just come back in after removing Luke's body from the cabin, rubbed his chin and thought. Finally he spoke, "Not know any place really safe." After thinking a couple more minutes Running Wolf said, "We take friend to village. Chief not mind. Your friend help Chief's brother's daughter. Gentle Wind tend to him. You go; not safe for you here. Friend get better, I and other Apache make sure he go home." Paul didn't like the idea of leaving Jarrod and replied, "After we get him to your village, if Jarrod flat out insists I go back to California I'll go. But," Paul answered as he looked at his friend, "I will only leave if that happens."


	16. Care for Jarrod and a promise

**I do NOT own The Big Valley, nor do I own any of the original Barkley characters. Thanks again to my Beta Reader, for all the time she spent helping me this story. **

**Against the Crooked Sky **

**Chapter Sixteen**

Any talk and noise in or around the teepees and in the rest of the village stopped as Running Wolf, the other Apache men, and Paul rode into the camp dragging a still unconscious Jarrod behind on a travois. Seeing how Running Wolf had never brought a white man directly into the village, let alone a wounded one, it made everyone stare and murmur. Who was he? Was he a great warrior? Had he helped the Apache men or what?

When Gentle Wind saw who was on the travois her eyes widened and she had to force herself to remain standing where she was. It would not look good if she went running after the man. She, and everyone else, watched as Running Wolf stopped in front of their chief, who had stepped out of his lodging. The Apache men dismounted their horses, and Running Wolf began explaining who Paul and Jarrod were and why they had brought Jarrod to the village.

The chief's eyes widened; he called out for Gentle Wind. She quickly moved from where she was standing and hurried over to the small procession. "Is this true?" The chief spoke in the tongue of the Apache.

"Yes," she answered as she looked at Jarrod; the men had undone the travois and laid it down before the chief, "He is the one who fought to save me and killed the other man." She too spoke in her native tongue.

"You will tend to him then. Take him to her father's tent." He said the words to Paul and Running Wolf, but looked at his brother. The man simply nodded his head and helped move Jarrod to his family's home.

Paul watched as Gentle Wind took over caring for Jarrod. He went to sit down only to get the shock of his life as Jarrod opened his eyes and started mumbling. It didn't take a split second for Paul to be kneeling down by his friend's side. "You'll be fine, Jarrod. We're in the Apache village," Paul took a hold of Jarrod's good arm, "Gentle Wind here will take care of you. The medicine man has even offered to do what he can for you. I'll be here for you. You're in good hands."

Jarrod was in a lot of pain, but he was still aware enough with it to understand what Paul was saying and what could very well happen. "I..I…do..n't .." he struggled to speak; his friend tried to stop him. After all, Jarrod needed rest. He needed to get better.

"Don't talk Jarrod. This village is a good one. They'll take care of you. You'll survive this yet, and then we can go back to California," Paul spoke doing his best to make sure Jarrod understood every word.

"N..o," Jarrod moved his head from side to side doing his best to speak, "G..o, g..o..my..fa..mi..ly. I kn..ow th..em… N..i..ck…H…ea..th. T..e..ll th..em…st…ay h..om…e. Pl..ea…se." Jarrod was terrified at the thought that his brothers would come to Arizona only to be killed by the renegades. Paul did his best to calm the man as he was starting to get excited.

"Calm down," Paul told him, "You told me you told them not to worry unless you'd been gone two months. It's been six weeks. We still have two weeks. You'll be fine by then. We can send a wire to them." He was doing his best to sound convincing as he was still greatly worried about the wound Jarrod had received; it was showing signs of a small infection.

Jarrod became more agitated and began to thrash around. "N…o… my…fa..m..il..y…go…" worried his friend would do more damage that had already been done, Paul saw nothing else he could do, but to agree.

"Fine," Paul told him as he put his hand upon Jarrod's good shoulder, "Fine, I'll go. Gentle Wind will be your nurse and these Apaches will watch over you, but," Paul's voice grew firm, "You and Running Wolf," the man said as he looked at the Apache that stood at Jarrod's feet, "Both promise me you will _not _leave this village alone."

Jarrod was losing consciousness again, but he still heard and understood his friend's words. His muscles relaxed and a peace seemed to settle over him as he whispered just before he slipped into sleep, "I promise."

Paul stood up glad Jarrod had only asked him to go to California and not actually try to force Nick and Heath to stay. No one who had a bit of sense in his head would even attempt that one. No, he would go, inform the Barkleys of what had happened and relay Jarrod's wishes to them, but that was it. He had no desire to go the round with the man called Nicholas Barkley! For that matter, he didn't care to take on Heath either. He then stepped aside and let Gentle Wind take over. He motioned for Running Wolf to follow him; he didn't want to take a chance of disturbing Jarrod. If the man had any hopes of surviving this, he needed his rest and the attention Gentle Wind was giving him. Once outside he took a few moments to collect his thoughts before he started speaking.

"You know, my friend is quite stubborn," Paul nodded towards the teepee behind him, "You'll have to plant your feet ten times farther down into the ground to keep him still long enough to get better, especially when he starts feeling better but you know he's not. It's part of being a Barkley." Paul couldn't help but chuckle as he thought on all the Barkleys only to have to quickly look away, as if he was looking at something else. He then added, out of concern that Jarrod might ramble a bit more than he should, "And I wouldn't take anything he says while he's in that condition seriously. After all, a man's not in his right mind all the time when he's like that."

Running Wolf looked into Paul's eyes; there was a light about this man, and he liked that. He may have only met this man called Jarrod Barkley once, but he also had a light about him not many men did. Also, Running Wolf liked the man called Paul Lee from the moment he met him. On top of those two facts, Running Wolf knew firsthand what it meant to have a good friend hurt, mumbling things that weren't always true and fighting for his life. "Gentle Wind care for friend, I watch him, friends watch him. You do what he say." Paul looked towards the teepee, sighed, mounted his horse and rode away praying like mad Jarrod would indeed pull through.

.


	17. Miscommunication

**I do NOT own The Big Valley, nor do I own any of the original Barkley characters. Thanks again to my Beta Reader, for all the time she spent helping me this story. **

**Against the Crooked Sky **

**Chapter Seventeen**

Audra had just finished nursing her infant son, Brigham Jarrod, when she heard the front door open. She laid the boy in his cradle, as he'd gone back to sleep, and hurried out of the room she'd been using while she and Brigham stayed at the main house. From the top of the stairs, she could see her husband and Nick talking. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw Nick hand Brigham a telegram and heard him say, "It's from Paul, a family friend, an old mountain man. Actually, he had someone else send the telegram."

"What does it say?" Audra made both men jump as she hurried down the stairs; the excitement she felt could be heard in her voice and seen in her eyes that sparkled. Paul was such a good man. He was always stopping by when he could or sending something. They never received a telegram from him, directly or indirectly, unless he was coming to visit. Before Nick or Brigham could answer, Victoria, Amelia and Heath walked in the front door laughing and talking. The excited look upon Audra's face might have given them reasons to hope something wonderful had happened, but they caught the pain in Brigham and Nick's eyes.

"What's up?" Heath said as he shut the door behind him a bit too loudly; it woke the baby up.

Audra looked up the steps than glared softly at her brother, "Oh Heath, it's supposed to be Nick who doesn't know how to shut that door properly!" She hurried back up the stairs. She told herself it was a good thing she, her husband and son would be back in their own home that night. If not, she'd never get any sleep!

"Well," Heath put his hands on his hips and looked at his brother and brother in law, "What is it? Is it Jarrod? Have your contacts found something?" His eyes shouted he needed to hear that his brother was on his way home. After hitting the man over the head with a two by four, he wanted to hug the stuffing out of him. As it was, he knew better when Nick nodded towards the living room.

"Let's go in there," he answered, his voice sounded rough as Brigham handed him back the telegram and followed him. It didn't take Victoria or the others long to find places to sit or stand. Nick stood near the fireplace with one arm up against it and the other one on his hip thinking of his trip into town just that morning. He wasn't supposed to have to make the trip, but he'd forgotten items that could not wait and had had to go back in. _"Nick!" the telegraph operator's assistant had grabbed him and handed him a wire that had just came in. "Jake says it's extremely important." _The moment he'd read the telegraph his world had fallen apart. He'd had to hurry out of town or he'd have gone straight to the saloon and emptied every bottle of whiskey they had.

"Nick?" Victoria finally broke the silence just as Audra walked into the room carrying her son. One look at everyone's solemn faces and the young mother quickly sat down, holding her son close. It was as if she was trying to shield the infant from whatever was going to be said even if he was too young to understand the words that would be spoken.

Nick opened the telegraph once more and read it, though his voice cracked more than once while he was reading it. "_Mr. Barkley. Search no more for brother. Paul Lee coming. Said he explain then. Sheriff Kline." _The telegram had been sent from Hawthorne, Nevada. He looked at Brigham not even trying to disguise the pain in his eyes, "I guess you can tell your contacts to start on another job. They just lost this one." He turned his face back to the fireplace as he felt his heart breaking in two, as it broke the pain it let out filled the room and mingled with the pain the others found themselves with. Having no way to know the sheriff had been trying to help Paul save his money for the trip by sending the telegram himself, which meant shortening the message up due to his own finances, left Nick and the others assuming the telegram could only mean one thing; Jarrod had been killed somehow.

Tears ran down Audra's face as she held her son even closer. "No!" she cried out, the anguish she felt poured out and filled the house, "He didn't even know we'd finally decided on a name! He never knew his nephew has his name!" She stood up, and hurried out of the room; Brigham stood up and followed her. No one tried to stop them. Amelia hurried to her husband's side, turned him away from the fireplace, and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Heath didn't say a word as he stood up and slowly headed for the door. He felt as if someone had poured ten gallons of California dirt into his boots; it was all he could do to get his feet to move. Only when Victoria heard the door shut did she speak, "I kept telling myself Brigham's contact would find something, or he'd be home tomorrow. He'd come home and explain it all himself." Her voice cracked as her heart ached worse than it had in years. "Why, Jarrod? What happened?" Her voice was barely above a whisper as she spoke the last words.

What with the assumption he and his family had just made, Nick's mind turned to his youngest brother. "I don't think we should write to Gene and say a word until Paul tells us exactly what happened. After all, he has a heavy enough load with all that schoolwork. He doesn't need to be trying to do it while wondering what happened to his oldest brother." Nick kept a tight hold on his wife as he spoke. Receiving the telegram, and taking it the way he had, had him realizing how much he had to lose and how much he could lose if he wasn't careful.

"No," Victoria said as she stood up and smoothed out her dress, "I agree. Gene is told nothing until we get all the details. He doesn't need it." She turned and quietly left the room.


	18. Pulled Both Ways

**I do NOT own The Big Valley, nor do I own any of the original Barkley characters. Thanks again to my Beta Reader, for all the time she spent helping me this story. **

**"All's Well" (1805)**

**Duett.**

**Words by Thomas John Didbin**

**Music by John Braham**

**from "The English Fleet in 1342"**

**Against the Crooked Sky **

**Chapter Eighteen**

Jarrod moaned softly as Gentle Wind removed one poultice and placed another upon his injured shoulder. Having taken the time to learn all she could about the various plants and such that were available to heal the wounded and the sick, Gentle Wind was working (along with her mother and grandmother) practically round the clock to do what she could for the man who lay in her father's tent. Running Wolf just checked in to see how Jarrod was doing a couple of times a day.

"Rest." Gentle Wind wiped the perspiration from off Jarrod's forehead and studied his face. She'd seen white men before, some good, some bad, but had never met one like Jarrod, one willing to defend an Apache. At first, when Jarrod fought the man who had taken her, she thought it was so he could have her for himself. When she realized he'd simply turned around and had the owner of the trading post arrange for one of her own people to take her home, she had been stunned beyond measure.

"_Nick! No! Stay away! Watch out, Heath! Watch out_!" Jarrod was started to thrash around and yell out in a delirious state of mind. His yelling brought Running Wolf into the tent. One look at the man and the Apache lifted him up and ran to the river with him; Gentle Wind followed running swiftly behind him. Soon she was sitting in the river, as close the bank as she could get with all but Jarrod's head under the water. Running Wolf was holding his body still under the water. They remained like that for a solid thirty minutes. Only when Jarrod had settled down did Running Wolf carry him back to the teepee.

"He not hot now, he sleep." Gentle Wind spoke in broken English as she wanted Jarrod, if he woke up at all, to understand what was being said. Running Wolf saw no reason to speak in English when the man wasn't awake, but he wasn't going to argue with any woman taking care of a man in Jarrod's condition.

"Many men die when shot like him. He strong one." He then knelt down and looked at Jarrod. Gentle Wind could see her good friend was worried. She sighed, "You say he strong. You look say he die. Why?"

Running Wolf shook his head. "I not think he die. I worry. Renegade Apaches, bad white men, make trouble for us and good white men. Maybe, come again. Maybe before he better. I not like idea. Hope he better soon." He did too. The sooner Jarrod was better, the sooner he and his friends could get Jarrod out of Arizona.

As the days passed, Gentle Wind watched over Jarrod and sang to him the songs of her people. The songs floated down gently and brushed across Jarrod's face as if doing what they could to help heal the injured man. Jarrod was no longer aware of where the singing was coming from; he found himself standing in the field where Nick and he used to play as children and could hear his mother singing off in the distance.

_"Sing it again, mother, please." Jarrod turned to see his mother and Audra sitting on their old picnic blanket and his sister begging her mother to sing the song she'd just finished again. She did, but instead of looking at Audra as she had done before she turned and looked at Jarrod as she started singing. _

_Deserted by the waning moon,_

_When skies proclaimed night's cheerless noon,_

_on Tower Fort or tended ground,_

_the Sentry walk's his lowly round,_

_the Sentry walk's his lowly round,_

_the Sentry walk's his lowly round,_

_and should a footstep haply stray_

_where caution marks the guarded way,_

_where caution marks the guarded way,_

_the guarded way, who goes there_

_Stranger quickly tell, a Friend_

_the Word good night all's well_

_all's well the word good night all, all's well._

_Or Sailing on the midnight deep,_

_while weary messmates soundly sleep,_

_the careful watch patrols the Deck,_

_to guard the Ship from Foes or wreck,_

_to guard the Ship, from Foes or wreck,_

_to guard the Ship, from Foes or wreck,_

_while his thoughts oft homeward veer,_

_some friendly voice salutes his ear,_

_some well known voice salutes his ear,_

_an lures his ear, what cheer_

_Brother quickly tell, above below_

_good night all's well all's well,_

_a-bove be-low all all's well._

_Her singing stopped, she stood up and walked towards him. He tried to go to her, but could not. "Jarrod," she said as she reached out her hand, "Come home, come and where all will be well." He could see the plea in her eyes and hear it in her voice._

"How he doing?" Running Fox entered the teepee once more and watched as Gentle Wind removed yet another poultice and replaced it with a new one. Jarrod was, once again, fighting a fever that was connected to an infection. He was not only worried the man may not recover before the renegades caused more trouble, but he worried also for Gentle Wind. He'd seen the look in her eyes. He did not think it wise to for an Apache maiden to give their heart to a white man, even if he was a good one. He feared she would only suffer a broken heart.

Gentle Wind looked up at Running Wolf and sighed. "He stuck between here and there. Spirits pull both ways. Good man for spirits fight over him." She turned her attention back to Jarrod. Running Wolf shook his head slightly and went back outside.


	19. Chapter 19

**I do NOT own The Big Valley, nor do I own any of the original Barkley characters. Thanks again to my Beta Reader, for all the time she spent helping me this story. And sorry, I should have said this sooner…this is a two part story.**

**Against the Crooked Sky **

**Chapter Nineteen**

Jarrod slowly opened his eyes. It took a moment, but soon his eyes had refocused themselves and he looked around confused. He ran his hand across the bearskin that covered him and looked around. One look at the buffalo hide that was laid over the poles of the teepee and he knew he was in an Indian village, but where and why? Again, it took a moment before the whole scene at the cabin slowly came back. He saw the man claiming to be an agent, one look at the gentleman at the door had told him differently, the attack by the renegades, and the pain as the arrow planted itself into his shoulder. A loud groan escaped his lips as he tried to sit up and pain shot through his shoulder.

"You rest," Gentle Wind appeared out of nowhere; she had actually been right outside the teepee, and knelt down by his side. It took another moment, but his eyes opened wide as he recognized the young woman from the trading post. He had been taken to _her _village? It was a small world! "You not better. You rest."

"H..how did I get here?" Jarrod lay still giving his shoulder a chance to stop throbbing. It was only then he realized his head was also bandaged and remembered the feel of a bullet grazing the side of it.

"Running Wolf, your friend, others bring you. You fight to live many days." Gentle Wind rested her hand on his good shoulder. Her eyes rested on his face. His face now sported a light beard. When Jarrod realized she was staring at his face he reached up and rubbed his chin. It only made her smile more.

"I'll have to shave when I get a chance. Where's Paul?" He looked around again. He expected the old mountain man to be threatening to kill him if he died and left it to Paul to go back to California and tell the rest of the Barkleys he had died.

Gentle Wind wasn't really surprised by his question. After all, the man had been badly off when he was brought to their village. She just hoped he'd know she was telling him the truth. "You tell him go. You say talk your family. He not want go. You insist he go. He do as you say after you promise not leave village alone." She answered as she removed the bandaging around his head and watched his face for any sign he'd recognized what she had just said.

A bit of the conversation she was talking about came back to him. He thought he had been dreaming it, but now he knew better. Paul would exact such a promise from him. A part of him wished he hadn't been so out of it when he made the promise, but he had to admit it was probably a good promise to keep. Again he tried to get up; it didn't work.

"I tell you rest." Gentle Wind pressed down upon his good shoulder. He was surprised to realize that, while there was no harshness in the way she did it, she had a lot of strength for someone her size. Before he could speak, Running Wolf came into the tent. He wasn't surprised to see the man trying to move.

"Good. You awake. You listen. You rest. You not better yet." Running Wolf handed her another poultice and then left.

Jarrod lay and watched Gentle Wind as she worked on changing the poultice. He had to smile slightly as she was, without thinking, humming softly. He realized then it was her singing he'd been hearing when he wasn't dreaming about his mother and family. "You have been tending me this whole time?" He was trying to wrap his mind around the fact that it was an Apache who had wounded him, but it was also the Apaches who had agreed to nurse him back to health.

"Man you call Paul take arrow out. Mother, grandmother, me we tend to wound." Gentle Wind answered as she finished up and went to work on finishing up a pair of moccasins she'd been working on. She had to smile as Jarrod, realizing he had no shirt on, lifted up the bear rug with his good arm. The look of relief that came on his face was hilarious to her and she had to bite her lip in order to control herself.

Jarrod was a bit embarrassed as Gentle Wind bluntly stated, "Shoulder hurt, head scratched, bottom half not hurt." He could tell she was fighting from bursting out in a fit of laughter. He couldn't help but chuckle some himself.

"I suppose you're right," Jarrod smiled at her, and then asked due to his concern for her and her people, "I'm not endangering your people by being here am I? I mean, those other Apaches weren't too happy about my friend and I being in the area." He could still see the men on their horses and hear their angry cries. It sent chills down his back.

"Bad people both sides. Life brings happiness and trouble. You not bring bad Apaches. Bad Apaches come on own." Gentle Wind started singing as she finished up one moccasin and picked up another one. Jarrod was amazed at the wisdom she spoke. After all, she looked so young.

"How old are you?" He surprised himself by asking. What should it matter to him just how old this Indian maiden was. It did not seem to bother her though.

Gentle Wind rested her hands, and the moccasin, on her lap as she thought for a moment, trying to remember how the white men told their days, weeks and such. Finally she started working on the footwear once more as she replied, "I twenty-three." The two fell into silence, as Jarrod was still quite weak and tired. He wanted to get to know all the Apaches in this village, for he was very much in their debt. He was soon back asleep and dreaming of his family and other things.


	20. Paul and the Real News

**I do NOT own The Big Valley, nor do I own any of the original Barkley characters. Thanks again to my Beta Reader, for all the time she spent helping me this story. **

**Against the Crooked Sky **

**Chapter Twenty**

Heath and Nick had just sat down in the living room and were doing their best to relax when Audra came hurrying into the house with her son in her arms. They were startled as they thought she was at her and Brigham's house, but with Brigham out of town it wasn't exactly surprising that she'd come around. When she spoke, they jumped to their feet. "Paul's coming!" It had been close to a month since they received the telegram and had begun worrying what was taking the man so long. Audra, who was talking quite fast, spat the words out ten times faster than she meant to and much louder too, though not as loud as she'd heard her brother speak at times.

Victoria and Amelia, who had walked out of the upstairs hallway, hurried down the stairs and followed Nick and the others out the front door. Sure enough, the old mountain man could be seeing approaching the house in the distance. Victoria turned around, "I'll have Silas put another plate on the table." She disappeared back into the house; Amelia followed.

"What do you think happened?" Audra asked the question without expecting her brothers to answer. It's just that she'd bounced back and forth from accepting the fact that Jarrod was dead to telling herself there had to be a mistake. Now, with Paul arriving, she wanted their friend to give them all the details so they could begin working on laying things to rest.

"Don't know," Nick spoke, his facial expressions said nothing, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes when it came to how he felt. "But it looks like we're going to get our answers now."

Paul could see his friends waiting for him. The moment he got close enough to see the expression on their faces, he felt horrible for them and angry at the sheriff who had sent the telegram. He just wondered what the man had said to give the Barkleys the impression he had totally bad news. He'd have sent the telegram himself, but he was a mountain man with very little money, so when the sheriff had offered to send the telegram himself, he'd taken the man up on the offer. "Hello, there," Paul stopped his horse and dismounted, "How are you doing?" He smiled though it was a weak smile.

The air seemed to get ten times thicker than it was. For once Nick seemed to lose his voice. Heath shifted his feet a little and stepped up to the bat answering for his brother and sister; she also seemed to have lost her voice. "We're all doing fine. Come on in. Mother's having Silas set an extra place at the table. You must be hungry after your travels."

Paul chuckled a little and agreed, "Yeah, can only eat so much jerky and catch so much fish." He knew it wasn't nice, only in some ways, he wished he had come to give them the details of a death. It would be so much easier than telling them where Jarrod really was. Not that he thought the Barkleys hated the Indians; he knew they didn't, but they would be horrified to realize he was with them at such a tumultuous time.

Once inside, Paul followed Nick and Heath to the table while Audra laid her son in the cradle that sat in the living room. Not knowing about Nick's marriage he smiled at the young woman he saw standing near the table talking to Victoria. "Which one of you is the lucky man?" Paul grinned at Nick and Heath, "And, how do I get her away from you?" that part was said in jest, and they all knew it.

Nick smiled wide and put his arm around his bride, "You don't, unless you wish to fight to the death." He managed to throw out the joke in spite of the way he was feeling. His family laughed, and Amelia blushed.

"I don't think I want her that bad," Paul grinned as Audra entered the dining room, and they all sat down at the table. Silas brought the rest of the food out and set it before them, and then disappeared back into the kitchen.

"Well, what happened?" Nick looked at Paul. The dark haired rancher was through with the formalities; he wanted answers, and he wanted them yesterday! Immediately, the feeling in the room went from uncomfortable to almost unbearable silence.

"Nick, you could have waited until after our guest ate before demanding answers," Victoria spoke as firmly as she ever had, maybe more, as she reprimanded her middle son. She knew how he felt; she wanted answers too, but she'd not forget her manners along the way. She didn't want her children forgetting theirs either, which he apparently had.

"It's okay, Victoria," Paul answered as he set down the cup of coffee he'd just poured himself, "Maybe, it's best told up front. After all, my arrival here had been delayed by one thing or another all the way here. First off, I wish I had been able to send that telegram myself. I don't know exactly what that sheriff said, but I get the feeling you made a very wrong assumption because of it."

Wrong assumption? Everyone stared at Paul. "Jarrod…" Nick spoke as he did his best to control his voice, his eyes glued on their friend, "he's _not_ dead?" The same question was in all their eyes. Paul took a deep breath and started explaining what exactly had taken place. By the time he was through he'd gotten more than one gasp out of the women, Heath looked as if someone had hit him below the belt a few times, and Nick had bellowed 'what?' more than once.

Nick leaned forward in his chair and spoke, almost through clenched teeth, telling Paul what Brigham had found out and then finished with, "You're telling us those two are now dead, but you left an injured Jarrod among the Apaches?" Everything from disbelief to downright fear for his brother's life ran through him, as it did for all of them. They'd heard the stories about the Apaches, and they knew there had been renegades causing problems for the whites.

"Nick," Paul answered, standing his ground, "it was the renegade Apaches who injured him. The Apaches who are taking care of him are extremely good people! You know as well as I do both kinds of people exist in _all _races." Paul then restated the one fact he'd repeated more than once during the conversation, "_I_ didn't leave him, _he_ _begged_ me to come here! Nick, he _doesn't _want anyone going down there after him. As worried as you are for him right now, he's ten times more worried that you, your brothers or Brigham will get it into your heads to go down there. No, I won't sit here and try to force you to stay; if it were my brother I'd feel like shooting the messenger, and then go after him anyway," Paul saw the slight smiles that came (for a split second) onto their faces, "I'm just telling you what he said."

"What happens to my brother if we do stay here! Sure, the Indians who have him right now, or when you left anyway, may be good Indians, but the ones who attacked that cabin aren't! I don't care what anyone says! I'm going down there!" Nick pushed his chair back and stormed out of the room.

For a few moments, there was an awkward silence hanging in the room. Paul sighed, "I'm sorry, Victoria. I really am. Promising him to come up here and talk to you was the only way to get him to settle down, and he needed to do just that. Running Wolf and the Apaches in his village _are_ good Apaches." He desperately needed Victoria know he was serious. She nodded. She knew he was serious and believed him. She also knew Nick was very much justified in his fears.

"I know, Paul," She smiled weakly and stood up, having lost her own appetite. "The three of you finish your lunch. I'm going to go talk to Nick." The others finished their lunch, but they did it in silence. All had their minds on Jarrod and the situation he was now in.


	21. Chapter 21

**I do NOT own The Big Valley, nor do I own any of the original Barkley characters. Thanks again to my Beta Reader, for all the time she spent helping me this story. **

**Against the Crooked Sky **

**Chapter Twenty-One**

The breeze from the opened entry flap to the teepee felt good as Jarrod opened his eyes once more. This time he was able to stay awake for more than a couple of hours and actually had the strength to sit up, though for a moment things seemed to spin a bit; it was probably the affect of the infection that had set in for awhile; thank goodness, the infection had finally disappeared altogether. He put his right hand over his left arm for a moment; it was in a sling made out of buckskin. He was tired of lying down and slowly, very slowly, stood up only to find himself dropping to his knees.

Gentle Wind, who had just walked into the teepee, hurried over to his side. "You want up, fine. Need help. Sick too long. Legs weak. Lean on me." She helped him up and wrapped his good arm around her shoulders. She smiled at Jarrod as she did so. Her smile lit up her face; Jarrod couldn't help but smile back.

"Thank you." He wasn't going to argue with the help. Soon she had him outside and was helping him over to a nearby log. As the two walked, Jarrod saw more than one head turn; some were women working in the village, some were men who were returning from who knows where and some were the young children. He didn't care though; he was just happy to be out of bed. He would have gone stir crazy if he had to stay down one more day. Of course, the long talks and getting to know Gentle Wind had been a side benefit. Once he was sitting down, Gentle Wind walked over to where her aunt sat on the ground working on a rug. It didn't take long for Gentle Wind to get her own project going.

Spotted Fawn watched as her niece worked and hummed softly, glancing over towards where their guest sat entertaining a small child who had wandered over his way. For a man who obviously did not understand the Apache tongue, this Jarrod Barkley was doing an amazing job keeping the child's attention. In spite of the slight admiration she was shocked to find she had for the man, Spotted Fawn was more than concerned for her niece. She'd heard the young woman and the guest talking and laughing as he lay recovering his strength. While Spotted Fawn was not against a mixed relationship, not to the degree Running Wolf was, she still shared the fear he had, that her niece was setting herself up for heartache.

"You have had many chances to marry, little one," The woman called anyone younger than her 'little one'; it didn't matter their age, "Why cast your eyes upon him? He is almost well enough to travel. He will be gone soon. Do you wish to leave your people and live among the white man?" Her eyebrows rose slightly.

Gentle Wind stopped her humming and thought for a moment, and then answered, "Do not worry about it; he is my friend." She went back to humming and working. _"They're called letters. There's twenty-six of them all together. When they' put together in different ways, they make up words." _Jarrod had told her when she'd drawn a few markings she'd seen at the trading post and asked him about them. He'd taken the time and taught her their names and sounds, promising to teach her more if she wanted it. She had wanted it, and he'd taught her some more. They'd also talked about family, both of theirs, and shared a lot of laughs, but more than that? Again, Gentle Wind glanced over at Jarrod, who was once again by himself. Who knew; she didn't and she wasn't making any guesses. She worked until she noticed Jarrod wasn't looking so well; she excused herself and hurried to his side.

"Come. You rest. I get food. You eat." Gentle Wind held out her hand. Jarrod would have like to stay outside longer, but he admit he was feeling rather tired. Besides, he was a bit embarrassed to realize that, in his hurry to see something beside the inside of a teepee, he'd remained shirtless. It hadn't seemed to make a difference to any of the Apaches walking around in the village though. He took hold of her hand, stood up, leaned on her and walked back to the place he was temporally calling home.

Once he was lying back down, Gentle Wind went to cover him up only to find his hand upon her wrist. "No, please. Let me just lie here and leave that entry flap open. It feels nice to see outside." It did too; from where he lay, he could see straight through the opening.

Remembering her aunt's words, Gentle Wind sat back on top of her feet and said, "You well soon. You go back white world. Before you leave…teach me more letters, teach me read." She was fascinated by the letters he'd taught her and the stories he told. She wanted more of both. Besides, if he was teaching her, it would give them more time together. With that admission, the fact that it would give the two of them more time together, Gentle Wind finally admitted to herself she was falling in love with him.

Jarrod couldn't help but smile as he closed his eyes. He had never really thought of himself as a teacher, but she had picked up so quickly when he'd shown her the first fifteen letters, it would be his pleasure. Besides, he enjoyed her company. "Sure, first I need to sleep." He said nothing more as he did just that, drifted off to sleep that is.

While Gentle Wind knew she should go back to work, she couldn't get herself to move for a few minutes. She watched Jarrod breathing and remembered the stories he'd told her as she did so. They had been so fascinating. _"Do you wish to leave your people and live among the white man?" _Her aunt's question rang once more in her ears. What _did _she want? Up until she'd met Jarrod, Gentle Wind had been more than content in the only world she'd ever known. Now? She lightly touched Jarrod's still bandaged shoulder; reccuring infections had made it necessary to keep it covered. As she ran her fingers over the bandages, she found herself wondering if there was indeed a chance for them.


	22. Chapter 22

**I do NOT own The Big Valley, nor do I own any of the original Barkley characters. Thanks again to my Beta Reader, for all the time she spent helping me this story. **

**Against the Crooked Sky **

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Jarrod was once again sitting outside enjoying the fresh air, even if it was a hot day (he was sure it was hotter down on the desert floor) when Running Wolf walked up and sat down beside him. Normally, Jarrod would have been more than happy to visit with Running Wolf; after all, the man was indeed a very exceptional human being, but the man looked so solemn that it made Jarrod a bit more than uneasy.

A few birds flew overhead of the small village before Running Wolf sat down next to Jarrod and spoke. "How shoulder? How arm?" He asked the question while looking at Jarrod's arm still lying in a sling.

Jarrod shrugged his right shoulder and answered, "Still hurts like all get out, but not as bad as it did at one time. Why? Am I wearing out my welcome?" He smiled and looked at Running Wolf his own concern showing. If he was wearing out his welcome, he'd take a chance of meeting any renegades and leave the village despite his injury.

"No," Running Wolf's shoulders sagged just a little, "You like Gentle Wind?" This time the man was looking him directly in the eye giving him the same kind of look Jarrod had given many men, and women, while they were on the witness stand. Jarrod figured the man was asking that because of how much time Gentle Wind and he had spent together. _"Please, don't tell Running Wolf you teach me read. He not understand. He good man, still not understand. Make trouble. Father make me stop."_

What a question! Jarrod liked everyone he'd met in the village; okay he couldn't understand most of them, still he liked them. His smile was genuine as he answered, "Of course, I like her. What makes you think any different?"

Running Wolf shook his head, "Not mean like friend. I mean like woman." He did not miss how Jarrod stiffened slightly, as one who has just received a slight shock.

Jarrod didn't answer at first. He was too surprised to. Sure he liked Gentle Wind, but in _that _way? He'd never really taken time to allow himself to entertain such a thought. After all, it's not like he was staying or she was willing to leave her world to deal with a world that would, for the most part, turn its nose down at her and condemn her simply for the color of her skin. He _did _enjoy her company and there _was _something different about her. Still... "I don't know." He finally answered, making sure he was looking the man in the eye. After all, if he didn't Jarrod knew the man would think he'd just been lied to.

"Gentle Wind like you like man. Not good. Apache woman Apache man. White woman white man. Agree or no?" Running Wolf kept his eyes on Jarrod.

For a moment Jarrod did not speak. Did he agree with such a statement? He thought on all the couples he'd ever met and his mind fell upon a couple he'd recently met near the California, Mexico border. He was white, and his wife was Navajo. The couple freely admitted they had been treated badly by a lot of people, but found their peace with their true friends, family who could accept them and, most of all, with each other and their maker. He shook his head slightly. "It all depends," he finally answered, "On the man and the woman involved. Though, I will agree, not too many times does such a match work. I don't know that many people are willing to face the hardships that can come from such a union."

Jarrod could tell his answer was received with mixed emotion. Still, there was a look of understanding in his new friend's eyes. The man stood up. "Like I say Gentle Wind like you as man. You need decide you willing face hardships as you say. If not, tell her. Make her see it cannot be." Jarrod watched him walk away, and then stood up and went for a walk around the village himself.

"_You're a man meant for the law. Don't worry about making this ranch your sole priority_!" Nick's words, ones spoken after their father's death came back to him as he watched young Apache children running around; some seemed to be playing with each other, others seemed more intent on annoying their playmates. "_Gentle Wind like you as man…" _Running Wolf's words too sounded again in his ears. If he actually took a serious look at Gentle Wind, and wound up with her, he knew it could cost him dearly. He went to find Gentle Wind.

By the time he found Gentle Wind she was helping one of the young children get a sliver out of her hand; his shoulder was hurting something fierce. He thought he was concealing the fact pretty well until Gentle Wind turned her head and straightened up. The look of concern, along with her words, told him different. "Go play Quiet Song. I tend Jarrod's shoulder." The child hurried to rejoin her friends.

"It doesn't hurt all that badly," Jarrod tried to deny, even to himself, how bad it really was. She saw right through him.

"Come." She led him to her father's teepee and went inside. "Take jacket off." She looked at the sleeveless buckskin jacket he'd been wearing (it was easier to get on and off his injured shoulder). With her help, he did as he was told. After it was off, she had him sit and began taking the bandages off. Jarrod didn't necessarily think it was good timing on his part, but after what Running Wolf had said, he saw no reason to wait.

"There are those who are concerned about all the time you and I are spending with each other." Jarrod winced slightly as she unwrapped his bandaged shoulder as he spoke, though he conveniently left out the fact it was Running Wolf who was concerned enough to actually speak to him. He needn't have worried as she'd seen Running Wolf approach him.

"Your wound healed. Bandages stay off. Need to move shoulder more. Stiffen up." She began working with it as gently as she could. At first it hurt worse than ever; he almost told her to stop only to find himself surprised as the pain actually started to fade. He was also surprised to realize how observant she must be as she said while working on his shoulder, "Running Wolf want me marry Cochise. He good Apache, fine warrior. Running Wolf and I not agree." They hadn't agreed for years; that is, they hadn't agreed when it came to her and marriage. He seemed to want her to marry just because she was 'getting too old to be single'; she wanted to marry for love.

"He says you like me as a man, not just has a friend," Jarrod said as he looked at her and thought on all the time they had spent laughing and talking together. She was different from anyone that he had ever known; that much was for sure, but to think of her as a possible wife? Up until Running Wolf had approached him, Jarrod realized it was a thought that he had purposely pushed to the back of his mind.

Gentle Wind quit what she was doing, looked at him straight in the eyes and told him, "If you not know, your shoulder not only thing hurt. Eyes need checked too." She went to go back to work on his shoulder leaving Jarrod to untangle the conflicting messages his head and his heart were now sending back and forth.


	23. No More Waiting

**I do NOT own The Big Valley, nor do I own any of the original Barkley characters. Thanks again to my Beta Reader, for all the time she spent helping me this story. **

**Against the Crooked Sky **

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

Nick was in the stable saddling Coco when he heard the stable doors open. The sound of a skirt rustling across the floor told him it was either his sister, his wife or his mother. He wasn't surprised when Victoria started speaking. He expected her to plant her feet to the center of the earth and do her best to convince him to trust Jarrod and the Apaches taking care of him just like she'd done the before; only this time he wasn't going to listen.

Victoria spoke precisely with no trace of one who was beating around any bush. She knew Nick better. When he got like this there was nothing to do but say exactly what you were feeling and hand out facts. "Before you go riding off, I'd like to have a word with you."

"_Before_…" Nick's ears caught the one word and he turned around. He'd expected her to come out and try to get him to see things from Jarrod's point of view or something, not to come out and right off tell him, in so many words that she wasn't going to try and stop him this time. "What is it?" he held himself erect and kept his one hand on the horn of his saddle.

"Do you remember when you got home after serving in the war? Do you remember the first story you were able to finally talk about to your father?" Victoria walked over to a pile of hay and sat down. She had to grin at the shocked look that came up on his face and added, "He was my husband, remember? You may not have felt comfortable talking to me, but your father did. What was it you said got your fellow comrade and his brother killed? What might have made the difference; that is, what did you think might have made the difference?"

Nick exploded, "I have to go down there! Jarrod's my brother!" As soon as he said the words a grin spread over his mother's face and slowly, for the first time in years, Nick saw what his father had tried telling him all those years ago. "I have to go down, Mother. With all due respect to you, I should have headed down there the moment Paul came and told us what was going on, instead of waiting as you asked." His voice softened. He hated feeling useless, and that's exactly how he'd been feeling ever since he'd heard that 'something is not quite right'. The useless feeling had only grown worse after he'd read the letter, learned the truth about Brian Miller, and been told Jarrod didn't want any of them going down to Arizona after him. Well, it just didn't work anymore! He was fetching Pappy home!

"I know you need to go," Victoria stood erect and brushed her skirt with her hands, "I was wrong in stopping you." The admission shocked Nick and his muscles relaxed. "I'm just asking you not to lay into Jarrod the way I know you want to. After all, I want both my two sons back."

"How about all three of us back?" Heath's words made them both jump backwards, as they had not heard him enter the stable. They were shocked beyond measure to see Gene standing beside him. What was he doing home? As if Gene could read their thoughts, he spoke up.

"I took an emergency leave from school the moment I got Brigham's telegram. He and I can run the ranch while Nick and Heath head down to Arizona with Paul. I've already talked to him." Gene wasn't surprised when his mother and brother looked shocked. As far as they knew, Paul had left a few hours after bringing the news to them. The Barkleys blamed it on the fact that Victoria was busy trying to talk some sense into Nick and the atmosphere had gotten too thick for the man's taste.

"Yes, he said Paul," Heath gave Nick a lop sided grin and told his brother, "The old codger has been staying in Stockton waiting for you to blow and take off no matter what anyone said or did. He seems to think, since he knows the way to the village Jarrod is recuperating in, it would help to have him along." Heath had been elated when he found out their old friend had not left town after all. He was going with Nick, but didn't like the idea of wandering around Arizona trying to guess where the village was.

"What are we waiting for then?" Nick started grinning from ear to ear, hugged Gene and held onto his mother for a few moments. If only they had found out about Brian sooner, if only….so many 'if onlys' but what good would it do to dwell on them? He waited until Heath had Charger saddled and then mounted Coco. Only when the two brothers had ridden out of the stable did Victoria and Gene walk out of the building.

"I hope they know what they're doing," Gene spoke out loud not really expecting to hear his mother say anything. After all, he was only stating the obvious. Silently he earnestly prayed for his brothers' safe return. Each and every one of his older brothers meant the world to him. He couldn't fathom losing any of them yet.

Victoria gave him a very small smile and nodded. "I do too, son. I do too." She watched her sons until they disappeared out of sight. For a small moment, she felt as if she was being transported back through time, back to eighteen hundred and sixty-one. She'd lived each day in fervent prayer for the safe return of her sons back then; now she would repeat history and do it all over again. She sighed and shook her head; would the human race ever learn to get along? Victoria didn't know, but slowly she turned and walked back to the house.


	24. Union

**I do NOT own The Big Valley, nor do I own any of the original Barkley characters. Thanks again to my Beta Reader, for all the time she spent helping me this story. **

**Against the Crooked Sky **

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

Jarrod stepped outside the teepee the Apaches had given him the day before. The chief had said he needed his own place even if he was still healing. Jarrod wasn't about to argue; he liked the privacy. The morning sun was just beginning to poke its head out of its bed. He took a deep breath and did his best to relax. Ever since Running Wolf had talked to him and Gentle Wind had freely admitted she was looking at him as more than a friend, his thoughts had been very much occupied. If Running Wolf hadn't gone out hunting with most of the other men, Jarrod would have had another talk with him.

He turned his head when Gentle Wind came up, looked him over, and said, "You dirty. You not bath many days. You need wash today. You follow me." Gentle Wind started down towards the river. Once they got to the river, Gentle Wind pointed to the water. "You wash." Jarrod looked around. No one else was in sight. He struggled to get the jacket off as his shoulder was still giving him fits, only to find Gentle Wind helping him. She smiled while she did it. "_Sure has a pretty smile_." Jarrod thought as she took the jacket, but hesitated as he looked from the river to Gentle Wind.

"I take care of grandfather before he cross over. I take care of mother's uncles before they cross over. You not have different parts." A part of Gentle Wind wanted to laugh; a look of embarrassment came upon Jarrod's face, but for his sake she did not. She turned around and kept the grin hidden from him. As soon as she heard him enter into the water she turned around.

Jarrod was doing his best to relax and wash up despite how stiff his shoulder had once again become when Gentle Wind surprised when she joined him in the river and swam around behind him. Before he could find his voice, she was massaging his shoulder for him. "Thank you. You'd think that think would heal faster." He turned his head and glanced at his shoulder.

"Bad wound. Healing fine. Take time." She finished with his shoulder and started on his back. Jarrod found himself relaxing in spite of himself. "What are your dreams?" It was one of the things he'd been wondering for awhile.

Gentle Wind's hands stopped and rest on the middle of his back, but only for a moment. "Dream same as many women I think. See world with man she loves and learn new things. Learning good for mind and soul." Jarrod couldn't argue with that one. When she was done with his back, Gentle Wind swam out in front of him. He watched mesmerized by her movement in the water. "_Learn new things." _He threw caution to the wind and swam after her.

Gentle Wind laughed as Jarrod wrapped his good arm around her waist and acted as if she was trying to get away. In all reality, she wasn't working too hard at it. Jarrod told himself he was crazy. He had to be if he hadn't fought taking a bath in the river with Gentle Wind present, and now he was swimming around in the water and playing with her. When she 'managed to escape', Jarrod heard Running Wolf's words "_Apache man, Apache woman. White man, white woman."_ He knew the majority of white men felt the same way, but standing in the river thinking on everything he'd learned about the woman named Gentle Wind since he'd awakened in her father's teepee he realized he'd fallen in love and sincerely didn't care about what others thought. Because his shoulder was stiffening up just a little, he sat in the water and simply waited for the prodigal to return. It didn't take long.

"Ready go back?" Gentle Wind swam up to where he sat and began massaging his shoulder again. Jarrod found himself wishing they were miles from the village. He found himself having thoughts he'd never dreamed of having when he first left California.

"Not really, but I guess we should." Jarrod stood up and helped her out of the water. Both quickly dressed and then started walking back toward the village. Gentle Wind slipped her hand into his; Jarrod smiled and wrapped his fingers around hers. By the time they reached the village the two had talked again about their families, the things they believed in and hoped for, along with a dozen other, smaller, things (like some people's mentality).

Jarrod stopped in front of the teepee he now stayed in and turned his head and smiled at her. All of a sudden he needed her to know she was different in his eyes, that he didn't go hopping into a river and chasing after just anyone and he loved her. "I have never bathed in a river with a woman. It's not my way."

Gentle Wind slid her arms around his waist and replied softly as she stared up into his eyes, "I never bath in river with man." The wind was starting to blow softly and they could hear the birds flying over heard, but they tuned the whole world out as Jarrod found himself pulling her to him and asking her to be his wife.

**0000**

Jarrod stood outside the teepee the Apaches had moved him to and looked around the darkened village. The moon was sending down what light it had, considering it wasn't a full moon, and the few stars that were out were also doing what they could to share their light. Gentle Wind stepped out of the teepee, slid her arms around his waist and rested her head against his bare chest. "You not sleep. What wrong? I disappoint you?"

Jarrod held her close, trying to really comprehend all that had taken place over a forty-eight hour period; the talk with Running Wolf, Gentle Wind's statement, the bath and swim in the river, the talks they'd once again shared, his admission that he'd been attracted to her from the moment he saw her, but hadn't admitted it until he'd watched her swimming in the river and, finally, lying with her and loving her with everything he possessed. "No," he whispered softly, "You didn't even come close to doing that. It's just that…" he paused and sighed, "I'm well enough to travel; this shoulder of mine still impedes the full use of my left arm, but I can still handle a rifle and a pistol. *As long as your father doesn't fight this union, life isn't going to be easy for us. As we have already talked about, there are many people who will not approve of us being together; I'm not even sure how my own family will take it. Also, I told you what I do for a living, what I thought I was coming down here for." He still couldn't believe it hadn't turned her away from him.

She smiled and held him tighter. "You say family hold same belief. They accept…maybe not at first…someday they accept." She then looked up at him. The love he saw in her eyes shook him to the core once more. "You come fight for Apaches. You willing help Apaches. Help all Indians best you can. You worth it."

"You are too." He turned around, took her hand and the two of them headed back into the teepee. He would have to talk to her father the moment the man got back into the village.

_*I don't know about today, but according to the research I did there was no actual wedding ceremony among the Apaches back in the 1800's. All the man did was talk to the father, give the man what he wanted and then he took the woman for his wife._


	25. Chapter 25

**I do NOT own The Big Valley, nor do I own any of the original Barkley characters. Thanks again to my Beta Reader, for all the time she spent helping me this story. And, yes, once again, the memories are from 'The Palms of Glory'.**

**Against the Crooked Sky **

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

Heath threw another handful of wood on the campfire and sat down. Paul lay sleeping nearby while Nick sat staring into the fire. Heath didn't have to ask what he was thinking. "You did it once; you can do it again." Heath took a sip of his coffee and looked at his brother. He wasn't surprised when Nick looked his way with a puzzled looked upon his face.

"What do you mean, I did it once?" Nick never liked being confused; he liked it even less now. They'd been traveling for what seemed forever, but they were making good time. They weren't all that far from the Nevada/Arizona border.

"Controlled yourself, you did it for Audra's sake; you can do it for Jarrod's." Heath knew it was the idea of losing his temper and what the consequences that could follow for their oldest brother, if he were still alive, that worried Nick. Nick was terrified, and he was not a man to be scared easily or just for anyone.

Nick bent his elbows and rested his head in the palms of his hands. For a moment he did not speak. He'd wrestled with everything from fear for Jarrod's life to downright anger that the man had allowed himself to 'fall for such a thing'. The only way Nick had gotten past that part was to tell himself that at least the man responsible for it was dead and so were the men who had been sent after him. "We have to take him home," Nick said as lowered his hands and looked at Heath, "One way or the other he needs to be with us."

One way or the other, Heath sighed. He knew that was Nick's way of saying dead or alive, Jarrod didn't belong in Arizona. "He will be." Heath put down his cup and leaned back against a rock, his mind on Jarrod. _"What's your name?" "Heath." "I was on that train this afternoon..." "Hire him on Nick." "To what! We're full!" "Well, Heath did me a little favor this afternoon. Hire him on." _Heath couldn't help but shake his head just slightly.

"What's wrong?" Nick had been watching Heath and knew his brother's mind was elsewhere, but the slight shaking of the head worried him.

"Nothing much," Heath answered as he set his cup down, "Just wondering what would have happened if he hadn't told you to hire me that first day I rode up to the ranch." Personally, he knew he would have dealt with it, but hated any alternative ideas he'd had come to him.

Nick gave him a smile and answered, "Maybe, saved ourselves some furniture and black eyes, but I wouldn't change that day if I could." The comment, and the sincerity with which it was spoken, earned Nick one of Heath's lopsided grins. "I'll do my best to control myself even if it kills me."

"Don't go that far," Heath stretched his legs, "I have to have someone to put the blame on when things go wrong." That earned him a playful slap from his brother. He didn't care though and let out a laugh, as did Nick.

Their laughter only got worse when Paul opened his eyes and rolled over. "Don't you two know what time it is! We have a long ride ahead of us tomorrow. I for one would like to be awake when I'm in the saddle!"

"You old codger! We weren't being that loud." Nick stood up and headed for his bedroll only to find Heath laughing harder than ever. Paul had rolled back over onto his other side and was muttering.

"You're always loud." Paul pulled the blanket up and over his head. Heath continued to chuckle softly as he too headed for his bedroll. Yep, Nick was loud, but Heath's chuckling stopped for a moment. He hoped his loud mouth brother would be able to find it in himself to control himself yet one more time, if for no other reason than to keep Jarrod, and themselves, alive.

**0000**

Jarrod lay awake for two reasons. His shoulder was hurting again, and he couldn't shake the feeling his brothers were on their way to find him. The thought Paul had not been successful in getting them to see it was not a good time for them to be down in this area both flattered and terrified him. Wasn't it bad enough he'd about died; did they really have to take that huge of a risk? What would his mother do if something happened to him and his brothers before they could get back to California?

When Gentle Wind stirred, he turned his head and sighed. Laughing with her, talking with her, even having a bit of a squabble with her, felt so natural. It still amazed him she'd accept him as her husband and had given herself to him on more than once occasion. If only her father would hurry up and get back from hunting. The sooner he talked to the man the better. As she lay curled up next to him, some of her hair lay on top of him; he brushed her hair behind her ear and brushed her cheek with his hand. What would they say about her? Would they be able to accept the fact he'd fallen in love with Gentle Wind? Would they accept her as a sister in law; that is, would they accept it if her father consented to it? What if the love they shared produced a child? These and a thousand other questions raced through Jarrod's mind before he finally fell asleep.


	26. Village Attacked

**I do NOT own The Big Valley, nor do I own any of the original Barkley characters. Thanks again to my Beta Reader, for all the time she spent helping me this story. **

**Against the Crooked Sky **

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

Jarrod walked through the village and, for the first time in weeks felt fit as a fiddle; well, Gentle Wind still had to massage his shoulder in the mornings, but that was it. The hunting party was expected back sometime that day, and he planned on talking to Gentle Wind's father . After that, he'd see Running Wolf about getting him and Gentle Wind out of Arizona. He stopped as Gentle Wind came out of the chief's tent. The man had been sick for almost a week. The people in the tribe were beginning to get worried.

However, before he could ask how the man was doing the village was surprised as renegade Indians seemed to appear out of nowhere and attacked them. The men who were there, along with the boys who had not gone on the hunt sprang into action, including Jarrod. He pushed Gentle Wind back into the tent and whipped out the pistol the Apaches had allowed him to keep and ran to join the fight. What else could he do? This village had given him not only his life back, but a woman to love too.

The cries of the renegades filled the air as the fight began, but they were not as loud as the ones defending the village. "_Other Indians mad we not fight white man. They make trouble here and there_." Gentle Wind's words came back to Jarrod as one of his bullets sent one of the renegades flying out of his saddle and down upon the ground never to move again. Jarrod turned around after the man fell and, to his horror, saw a renegade headed for the chief's tent. He aimed his pistol and pulled the trigger; it was empty. He threw the gun aside and flew faster than he thought possible and found himself in hand to hand combat with a man intent on killing the Apache chief and anyone who stood in his way.

Jarrod grabbed the man's wrist and held the man's other arm away from the one that held the knife. Perspiration was running down Jarrod's face by the time he was able to get the knife away from the Indian and, because the man came at him again, planted the man's own knife into his chest. The man stared at him, muttered something in his native tongue and fell to the ground.

Jarrod turned around only to have an arrow barely miss him. He darted yet another arrow, reached up and pulled the shooter off his horse. Whether or not he could have won that fight was something he wasn't to find out as one of the older men in the village successful killed the attacker with one of his arrows.

One minute the fighting seemed like it was never going to end, the next the few renegades who were left were fleeing for their lives. Jarrod looked around and, much to his relief; he saw only two of the villagers were dead. Yes, there were others with blood running down their arms, or legs, but all were breathing. He made his way back to the chief's tent and stepped inside. Gentle Wind was talking to her aunt, along with a couple of the men in the village who had hurried over to the teepee to see how their chief had fared. When he entered, all talk ceased.

Jarrod was confused as the men were staring at him, and the chief was smiling from ear to ear. "Did I come in at a bad time?" he asked as he looked at Gentle Wind. He would be more than willing to leave if necessary.

Gentle Wind flew to his side and hugged him for all she was worth. Jarrod figured she was grateful the fighting was over; he was too, but this display of affection in the chief's teepee was throwing him off as much as the looks he was getting from the men. She cleared up his confusion when she whispered, "You save not just me. You fight for all village. You save my uncle the chief."

So that's why he was being stared at. He saw no cause for such a reaction. He had only fought to protect those who had helped him; was it his fault if he was the one closest to the chief's teepee when the renegade headed for it? When the chief began talking, Gentle Wind turned and faced the man. Whatever he was saying must have been good because Gentle Wind started beaming from ear to ear.

She looked at Jarrod and told him, "Uncle say he, my father talk," She paused as she thought about the words she needed to use, "He say I your lover and wife. He say you want anything tell him. You get it."

Jarrod sucked in his breath as Gentle Wind wrapped her arms around his waist. He could think of only two things he wanted and he had just been handed the first one on the list. Before he could get a word out, they heard a skirmish outside. Jarrod hurried and opened the entry flap and then stepped out. He had to shake his head as two of the Apache men in the village had a prisoner by the arms. Jarrod recognized the man as he'd seen him attack the two who had not survived their wounds. The man was shouting and yelling in Apache, but it did him no good.

Jarrod followed and stood on the edge of the village only to watch as the two men, and a couple who had joined them, stripped the man of any clothing he had on and then staked him out in the sun. Jarrod felt sick to his stomach. Sure, he knew prisoners of war were killed by many people; that custom didn't belong exclusively to just one race, but it still turned his stomach to think just how much the man would suffer before he died.

Jarrod went to turn around only to feel Gentle Wind's arms slide around his waist and her head against his back. "No can help enemy. He kill two people. Now he die. Do white man not kill men who have killed?"

Jarrod sighed as he turned around to face the woman who had captured his heart and was now, thanks to her uncle, the chief, his wife. Well, according to her people's laws she was. They'd have to go straight to a preacher as soon as they got into a town that had one. "Yes, but not slowly, not like this."

Gentle Wind could tell how upset her husband was. He needed something else to think about and, whether or not it was the best time of day or not, she knew of only one thing that could distract him at the moment. She slid her hands under his jacket and whispered, "I know secret place, outside village. Want me show you?" She asked the question as her hands and fingers roamed over his skin. _"…whatever you want you get it." _Jarrod stiffened and nodded; he needed her right now, he needed to forget for awhile. After that, he'd tell the chief there was no reason for him to stay with the Apaches any longer. He'd tell the man he was taking his wife and going back to California.


	27. What!

**I do NOT own The Big Valley, nor do I own any of the original Barkley characters. Thanks again to my Beta Reader, for all the time she spent helping me this story. **

**Against the Crooked Sky **

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

Nick, Heath and Paul made their way up the mountain all praying and hoping to find Jarrod had fully recovered and was ready to leave. "You know," Paul said as he turned and looked at his friends, "There's always a chance all we've done is crossed paths with him. He could be on his way back home." He could live with that. He was shocked when Nick and Heath shook their heads.

"He's still there," Nick answered, but kept his eyes moving in order to make sure he had a higher chance of not being caught off guard by any renegades, "I can feel it." Heath nodded slightly as if to say he too felt it. Paul shrugged his shoulders after Nick and Heath reacted the way they did. Who was he to argue? 'Those boys', as he had often called them, _did _have a knack for feeling things.

Time had never dragged on slower than it did then. Nick wanted to find old man time and force him to move the hands of the blasted clock faster than it was going. By the time noon rolled around he and the others found themselves looking at the village from a distance. When they saw Jarrod stepped out of one of the teepees, Nick took off at a dead run before Heath or Paul could stop him.

Jarrod saw the rider coming, and his heart stopped. Nick! WHAT was he doing here? He hurried through the village afraid the Apaches might take the fact that his brother was barreling towards the village as a bad sign and hurt him. It was, in fact, a justified fear as a couple of the men had seen the riders coming and grabbed their weapons. _"NO!"_ Jarrod yelled as an Apache went to shoot his arrow at what he thought was an enemy who was going to harm them. Nick was blessed just for the mere fact that the man understood enough English and, after what Jarrod had done for the village and their chief, listened and lowered the bow and arrow.

"Nick!" Jarrod didn't know whether or not to hit his brother for the action he'd chosen to take or to hug the stuffing out of him; as it was he hugged the stuffing out of the man and then chewed him out. "The men don't know you're my brother and, after yesterday, they're on the defensive!"

Nick along with Paul and Heath who had caught up and dismounted their horses, looked at Jarrod confused as all get out. "What happened yesterday?" Nick asked as he saw a woman hurrying towards them. Jarrod followed his brothers' and friend's eyes; his face lit up. It was Gentle Wind hurrying towards them. If it weren't for the fact that Paul was with the strangers, she'd have been worried. As it was, she'd heard Jarrod call out Nick's name and realized these had to be two of the brothers he'd talked about.

"Hello, Paul," she acknowledged the mountain man's presence, and then looked at Nick and Heath, "Brothers?" Gentle Wind asked as she stopped and stood next to Jarrod.

Jarrod wrapped his one arm around her shoulder and pointed towards Nick, "Yep, this is Nicolas Jonathon Barkley, better known as Nick and my brother, Heath," he pointed towards his blonde haired brother, "This," he said as he looked at his brothers and then to Gentle Wind, "is my wife." He braced himself and waited for what he knew was coming; it was.

Nick exploded, and his voice rolled through the entire village making every head turn. "_**YOUR WHAT**_**!"** The silence that followed was an uneasy feeling fell over the entire area. When Jarrod saw Running Wolf heading their way he knew he had to act fast; it wasn't like the man had been overly thrilled with the news himself. Though, to his credit, the Apache had controlled his tongue and, like the rest of the village, was grateful for what Jarrod had done for their chief.

"I need to talk to my brothers and Paul alone," Jarrod nodded towards their approaching friend and sent her a look that said '_take care of him'_! He wanted no trouble with the man.

Gentle Wind did as he asked, but not before looking at Nick and shocking them all when she said, "What you say true. I think dark haired brother have wrong name. I name him Sound of Thunder!" She then hurried to make sure she kept Running Wolf busy while Jarrod dealt with the three men.

"Let's go someplace private; that is," Jarrod told them as he saw the chief, who had actually felt good enough to sit outside his teepee, looking their way, "After I introduce you to their chief. After that I'll explain what happened yesterday." Jarrod turned to walk towards the chief; Nick stopped him.

"Before we talk to the chief,_**what **_are you talking about when you say that woman is your wife? We came a long ways; we didn't do it to just sit around with unanswered questions." His eyes were full of disbelief, as was his voice. Heath and Paul looked as if they wanted answers sooner rather than later themselves.

Jarrod found himself on the defensive when he heard Nick refer to his wife as 'that woman'; he had to remind himself his brother had not been given her name, and he was in shock. It's not like the man had been prepared for the news. "First off," Jarrod barked back as low as he could, "I know Paul keeps his word, which means you were asked not to come down here in the first place! Second, 'that woman', as you put it, has a name. Her name is Gentle Wind, please refer to her as such and, no, Nick, first we visit the chief," he stood his ground and looked back at his brother with the look he always gave him when he went into the role of Pappy, "Or, do you have a death wish? If you keep on acting like this, it's what you're asking for, and believe me when I say you don't want that." He shuddered as he thought of the man staked out in the middle of the field and close to death from what some were saying.

Nick liked living just the way he was. He shook his head and rubbed his forehead as he gave in. "All right, let's get this over with." Jarrod sighed with relief and led his brothers over to where the chief sat.


	28. Nick's reaction and Talk by the River

**I do NOT own The Big Valley, nor do I own any of the original Barkley characters. Thanks again to my Beta Reader, for all the time she spent helping me this story. **

**Against the Crooked Sky **

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

_"You went and lost it! That injury to your shoulder an graze to your head affected your mind somehow! A white man doesn't belong with an Apache woman!" Nick's voice had rang through the air as he flew into a rage after his brother had explained how the marriage came about. He'd finished with, "Leave me alone!"_ Jarrod sat near the fire staring into the flames, the memory of Nick yelling and storming off towards the river still fresh in his mind. When he heard footsteps approaching, he turned to see Heath making himself a place near the fire pit. Jarrod sighed; at least this brother was still willing to be in the same place as him. After a few minutes of silence, Heath leaned forward, resting his arms on knees while his hands hung downwards. "Give him time, Jarrod. He went from praying like mad you were even alive, grieving when he thought you were dead no thanks to Brian Miller, to learning you were alive, seeing you recovered, only to learn you'd married an Apache woman as well. Well, in the eyes of her people you have. You're talkin' a lot of emotion rolled up all in one, and we both know how well Nick deals with that. He'll come around though."

Jarrod gave him a sad smile as he turned his head slightly. "While I lay fighting for my life, I wondered if I'd be allowed to live to see my family again," he paused and looked up at the stars before looking back at Heath, "I never thought I'd realize, later, that I'd fallen in love with Gentle Wind or that I'd have to face the possibility of having to choose between her and any member of the family." That idea, being forced to choose, made him sicker than finding out Brian Miller turned out to be so rotten or seeing the Apache prisoner staked out. "How do you feel, really feel about this? You didn't say anything; I mean not even one word. Will you accept Gentle Wind into the family?" His head knew what Heath would say, but his heart needed to hear it as well.

Heath thought back to how the family had worked through their feelings when it came to fact that Tom Barkley had fathered a son from another woman, and then welcomed him into the family with open arms. He gave Jarrod a small lop sided grin. "You won't have to choose between us; I don't have anything against her and will do my best to make her feel welcome. However," he said before pausing. He twiddled his thumbs a bit as he entwined his fingers with each other, "There will be those who won't. I think that's where Nick's reactions really stem from, and I think you know that too."

Jarrod went back to looking into the fire. He thought back on all the people he'd met in his travels and the way they had acted. Most were good enough people, but they feared what they did not know or understand. When people let that fear get to them then, yes, persecution was bound to be heaped upon innocent parties. "We've dealt with people's prejudices before. Why should he think this would be any different?"

Heath stood up and took a few steps towards the fire before speaking. He was remembering everything he had been put through while he was growing up. Truth was, he knew better than any of the Barkleys how it was to have people look down upon you and treat you badly because you didn't "fit in". "No, Jarrod. You haven't," Heath held up his hand when Jarrod sat up straight and acted as if he was going to object, "I've been there, Jarrod. You haven't. It's not an easy row to hoe and, if you don't get and keep your facts straight, it can destroy you. To a large degree, Nick is very much aware of this. He's terrified for you, _and for Gentle Wind_, even if he's not admitting that part yet. What's done is done though," he sat back down and kicked out his legs, "You love her and she loves you. I'll have your back and, given time, you'll have Nick's support too," Heath said as he reached over, picked up a piece of wood, and threw it into the fire, "It will be best if we get started home first thing in the morning. From what you told us about yesterday, I don't think it's a good idea to stay even a day." Jarrod said nothing as he went back thinking about Nick and wondering if his mother, sister and other brother would react the same way.

As soon as Nick had stormed away from Jarrod, Gentle Wind, who had been watching from afar, followed at a distance until Nick sat down by the river. Once he began throwing small pebbles into the river, she made her way to a spot a good twenty feet away and sat down. She watched to see if the man she was calling Sound of Thunder would up and leave; he did not.

She had studied this man from afar for some time. At first she thought he did not approve of the marriage between his brother and her just because she was an Apache. But as she'd watched him, even as he as yelling and saying things that were unrepeatable in her books, she'd been shocked to see the same look of great concern in his eyes that Running Wolf had in his. It was the realization that this man did not hate the Apache, but that he feared greatly for his brother that had given her the courage to come and try to tell the man what was on her mind. "I speak, you listen?" She kept her face towards the river hoping it would make help Jarrod's brother feel more at ease.

Nick's shoulder sagged just a little as he too kept his eyes on the river. If the woman had come to speak to him after all he'd said in a fit of rage, he guessed he could do as she asked. "I'll listen."

Gentle Wind smiled and began speaking. "Many years I hear Running Wolf, my father, others say I Apache, I marry Apache. Many years I think same. I wait, I watch. Good Apache men I meet? Yes. Find love? No. I see other Apache girls marry, I still wait. Time pass, I accept I not find love. I think Great Spirit not want me marry. I think I live life for family, for friends, for others." Gentle Wind grew quiet as she turned her head and actually looked at Nick. She was shocked, but happy, to see Nick actually nodding. It told her he knew how it was to watch and wait. She started speaking again. "Running Wolf, others, bring Paul, your brother to village. Jarrod badly hurt. I tend him. I sit with him all night sometimes."

Nick rested his chin on the top of his folded fists as she talked. He fought a range of emotions as he listened to Gentle Wind relate every detail of his brother's fight to live. He also realized how much compassion this woman had to have in order to do all she had without complaining. Finally, he turned his head and looked at her. The look in her eyes reached through his wall and grabbed hold of him as she finished with, "We laugh, we talk, I find love. He find love." She stood up and looked Nick straight in the eye, "Not good brothers fight. Not good family fight. Jarrod, I married. You my brother now. Not fight, please. It hurt all." She turned and walked away leaving Nick to the night sounds and his own thoughts.


	29. A Talk with Running Wolf

**I do NOT own The Big Valley, nor do I own any of the original Barkley characters. Thanks again to my Beta Reader, for all the time she spent helping me this story. **

**Against the Crooked Sky **

**Chapter Twenty- Nine**

Unable to sleep, Nick took a chance and walked around the village trying to sort out his thoughts and feelings. He sighed; he'd done exactly the opposite of what his mother had asked, and now there was a wall between Jarrod and he. He was so absorbed in his thoughts he almost bumped into Running Wolf. Quickly, Nick backed up. "I'm sorry." he stiffened slightly, "I guess, I wasn't looking where I was going." He found his heart pounding as he didn't know whether or not the man spoke English. He was relieved as the man replied back in English though he wasn't prepared for the man's question.

"You not like Apache?" Running Wolf kept his eyes on Nick as he, Running Wolf, was an expert at reading people. He'd heard this man's words ringing angrily through the village and figured it meant trouble for Jarrod and Gentle Wind, sooner or later.

Nick didn't need the man getting any wrong ideas. That is, he didn't need it after all that had happened. He also knew very well why the man was asking the question. That being the case, he stood erect and answered, "I don't hate Apaches; I just don't approve of a white man marrying one; it brings too many problems." After everything he'd seen in his life, Nick figured it was the understatement of the year. He was surprised, but relieved, when the man started grinning from ear to ear instead of getting angry.

"I think same. I try get Gentle Wind see same. She say she love Jarrod enough. He says he loves her enough," Running Wolf looked towards the teepee Jarrod and his friend now shared, "I fear for her. I fear for your brother," he paused, thought for a moment, and then looked at Nick in earnest, "They not listen us. Gentle Wind good woman. Your brother good man. You, your light haired brother, you watch them? Protect them same as I and others in village protect them?" Running Wolf spoke as he remembered having to pull his friend, Cochise, and others into keeping an eye on the couple who had insisted on being lovers before the chief gave them to each other. After all, there were some in the village who disapproved even worse than he did.

Nick was taken aback. For whatever reason he had, Nick had assumed that everyone in the village had backed the marriage up. He hadn't stopped to think that Jarrod and Gentle Wind had already suffered persecution by those opposed to an interracial marriage. It was all Nick could do to stand as he heard his father say, _"They have suffered and will suffer more, but does it have to be the hand of their own flesh and blood?"_ Nick felt an inch high as he finally took time to remember the look in his brother's eyes as he'd tried to get Nick to see that he truly loved Gentle Wind and failed. It was a look of a man in great pain; it was the same pained look that had been in his sister-in-law's eyes and voice as she spoke to him down at the river. "Don't worry about that," Nick relaxed and smiled at Running Wolf, "We'll have their backs. If you ever find yourself in Stockton, California feel free to stop by and see us too."

A look of sadness came into Running Wolf's eyes; Nick was confused. He hadn't thought he'd said anything wrong. His confusion showed in his eyes. Running Wolf was not surprised by the look in Nick's eyes. He motioned for Nick to follow him and headed out of the village. Soon the two were far enough away from the village that Running Wolf felt free to talk.

"You may be Sound of Thunder to friend, you still good man. What I say, you not say again?" Running Wolf's voice held such a solemn tone that Nick couldn't help but stand up straight and open his ears wide. What did the man have on his mind?

"I won't repeat anything you tell me if you don't want me to. That is, as long as you're not going to confess any crimes to me." He didn't care to go there at all.

"I have vision three nights," Running Wolf looked in the direction of the village and then back at Nick, "Good you come, good you take brother and Gentle Wind away. I know this, still I sad. I see Gentle Wind no more. She not see me." The Apache waited for what he'd just said to register for Nick. As soon as Nick's eyes widened, Running Wolf knew the man understood and continued. *"I see Apache force off this land. I see Apache made to walk far. I made to go. I not get new home on earth. I see earth is my blanket, I see earth is blanket for many Apache, I see trail filled with tears, pain and suffering. White Chief order it. White warriors obey. Not many Apache return."

Nick felt shock waves go through every inch of him. Brigham had said the rumors of more reservations being made were true, but he hadn't been able to find out the exact details before Nick, Heath and Paul had left. "If you know this, why don't you take your people and go somewhere else?" As soon as Nick asked the question, he knew the answer.

Running Wolf shook his head. "What I see bad. Chief, me, others want take my people, find new home. Where? Where we go? White man everywhere. White chief and white warriors have hungry eyes. See and take, my people suffer and die. White man do this and say all Apache, Paiute, Navajo other tribes savage. I say bad Apache, white savage make trouble for good Apache, good whites. No, I leave this life before next summer, not want Gentle Wind to know. Life give her and Jarrod good and bad, I not give bad. Keep promises. Protect and say nothing." The man didn't really expect Nick to say anything; he just wanted Nick to have something to think about.

Nick found himself admiring the man before him. If Running Wolf was right, he wished with all his heart he could change the man's future. He couldn't though, but he could keep both his promises. He clasped his hand upon the man's shoulder and nodded, "Don't worry, you have my word; I'll keep my promises."

*Information on the removal of the Apaches is at the bottom of Ch. 3, but I've included it here again.

* .org/wiki/Apache#Forced_removal  
>In 1875, United States military forced the removal of an estimated 1,500 Yavapai and Dilzhe'e Apache from the Rio Verde Indian Reserve and its several thousand acres of treaty lands promised to them by the United States government. At the orders of the Indian Commissioner, L.E. Dudley, U.S. Army troops made the people, young and old, walk through winter-flooded rivers, mountain passes and narrow canyon trails to get to the Indian Agency at San Carlos, 180 miles (290 km) away. The trek resulted in the loss of several hundred lives. The peoples were held there in internment for 25 years while white settlers took over their land. Only a few hundred ever returned to their lands.<p> 


	30. Chapter 30

**I do NOT own The Big Valley, nor do I own any of the original Barkley characters. Thanks again to my Beta Reader, for all the time she spent helping me this story. **

**Against the Crooked Sky **

**Chapter Thirty**

The sun was barely up, but still it found Jarrod, Gentle Wind and his brothers getting ready to leave. Paul was going to help Running Wolf and other Apaches get them to the Arizona border safely, and then Paul said he'd travel as far as Hawthorne with them as he intended to go visit some other friends now since 'this little adventure is over'. None of them had even attempted to hide their smiles when Nick had bellowed, "_What do you mean, 'little'!"_

Nick stood a good five hundred yards away from Jarrod and Gentle Wind. He thought on Gentle Wind's words, the conversation he'd had with Running Wolf and his promise. He shook his head and headed for his oldest brother. He still disproved of the union between the two, but the least he could do was to stop acting like a jerk and go make peace with his oldest brother. It sent pain through every fiber in his body as Jarrod automatically put his arm around Gentle Wind and pulled her close. It was obvious he'd turned defensive once more. Nick realized that, in Jarrod's eyes, he had no choice. Hadn't Nick sworn he'd never be within a hundred yards of them ever again? That is, if he could help it. "What is it?" Jarrod asked once Nick walked up to him. He figured there would only be hard words, or ones that were bitten off as they were spoken.

Nick sighed and shook his head. Gentle Wind was right; they shouldn't be fighting each other; it just wasn't right. He sent shock waves through his brother and sister-in-law as he replied. "Just wanted you to know I'll have your back." What else could he do? He loved his brother dearly and wanted him to be happy. If being married to this Indian maiden did that, so be it. Pure joy showed in Jarrod and Gentle Wind's eyes as their faces lit up, as did Heath's (the man wasn't ten feet away). Not knowing of the Nick's talk with Running Wolf in the middle of the night, all Heath could do was to turn towards Jarrod with a look that said _I told you he'd come around._

Jarrod reached out and grabbed Nick's arm as he turned away, his heart feeling quite full. He'd not be losing the brother he admired so much after all. Nick turned back and, for a moment, all the two brothers did was look at each other, the looks of love and concern they had for each other showing on their faces. Finally, Jarrod said seven simple words, but they made Nick's choice well worth it. "You're one of the best, thanks Nick." Nick grinned, but neither brother said any more as they went back to preparing for the journey ahead of them.

Once they were ready to leave, they headed for the chief's teepee as Gentle Wind's parents were standing outside of it, next to the chief and his wife. Gentle Wind hurried into their outstretched arms. "You take care of Gentle Wind. Stay by her all times, not just good." Her father grasped Jarrod's hand and held it tight. He, like Running Wolf feared for Gentle Wind and Jarrod, but unlike their common friend, her father did not disapprove of her marriage.

Jarrod nodded knowing the man had great concerns for his daughter. He couldn't blame the man, and he held onto Gentle Wind tightly. "I'll tell you what, I'll do my best by wife and thus your daughter will be taken care of too." Jarrod's smile spread across his face as he then helped Gentle Wind up on her horse and then mounted his. Her parents and others watched as the small group started their journey, being led by Running Wolf, Cochise and a few other Apache men. They only turned back to their own lives after Jarrod and the others had disappeared out of sight; that is, everyone but her parents. They stood where Jarrod and Gentle Wind left them for a few more minutes before they turned around and walked away.

As the small group headed for the Arizona border, Jarrod found his mind wandering. He remembered how often he'd heard it said that the bad in all races caused the trouble for the good everywhere. He'd had plenty of proof of that over the past couple of months. As Jarrod looked at Running Wolf, Cochise and their friends, he couldn't help but sigh. Sooner or later, whether he liked it or not, these men and their families _would_ be forced to move and there was nothing he could do about it.

Knowing there was nothing he could do for the men Jarrod turned his attention to Gentle Wind. He couldn't help but wonder what the future held for the two of them. Without half thinking, Jarrod reached out and laid his hand upon hers. Gentle Wind looked down and then over. _"Do you really realize what you're getting into?"_ Running Wolf's words as he spoke to her in their native tongue rang in her ears, "_Not all white men are like Jarrod and his brothers. It will be hard, and I mean hard!_" She turned her hand upwards, twisted her fingers around Jarrod's and went back to looking ahead. For better or worse, she wasn't turning back.

**End of Part One. To Be Continued.**


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